


Goose Bumps

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Stress Relief [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Garrus Vakarian, Casual Sex, Casual Sex that isn't really casual, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship to Sex to Love, From Sex to Love, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Romance, Light Angst, Mass Effect 2, Masturbation, No Shepard without Vakarian, POV Shepard (Mass Effect), Paragade (Mass Effect), Past Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Shameless Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 44,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: Fiona Shepard woke up on a Cerberus operating table, apparently after being dead for two years. She wants nothing more than to see a familiar face, someone who will have her back as she works with her former enemies and tries to save the galaxy. Again.And then after one trip to Omega, she's reunited with her best friend in the galaxy.But he looks at her differently, now - and she can't seem to shake this new feeling. Especially not once she realizes it's not really a new feeling.Some fluff (mild angst as well) and smut of Fem!Shep/Garrus, starting with their reunion on Omega up until her return to Earth before Mass Effect 3. Focuses on their conversations and moments together from Shepard's POV, so glosses over a lot of the action of ME2.All rights obviously belong to Bioware.Kudos and comments, etc., are all greatly appreciated.





	1. Archangel

**Author's Note:**

> Just a for fun piece that I wrote a while back, my take on the start of the relationship between Female Shepard and Garrus.
> 
> Can't stop won't stop, apparently. This one is mostly fluff and smut, only a little angst.  
> Mostly.
> 
> xx,  
> L

            Commander Fiona Shepard was already sick of the stench of Omega. Standing in front of the mercenary recruiter, she tried her best not to scrunch her nose in distaste as the smell of Batarian and Krogan sweat overwhelmed her. Miranda gave a small cough behind Shepard, most likely trying to hold back her own gag as they waited in line.

            The Batarian in front of them got his orders and left. Shepard put on her best ‘mean mug’ face as she took her place at the recruiter’s table. “I hear you’re going after Archangel,” she began curtly. “We want in.”

            “You get paid after, if you die your friends don’t get your cut, and no - this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or Blood Pack,” the Batarian replied without looking up. He continued writing his tallies for a moment before he finally raised his many sets of eyes. “I see you already have your own gear…three of you?” Shepard nodded. “Someone will meet you at the shuttles. I’d go soon, they’re about to begin another push.”

            Shepard nodded again and turned to leave. As she walked away a young boy pushed past her, bumping her shoulder roughly. “I want in!” he cried eagerly, his youthful voice making Shepard pause. She turned to look at him, and saw that he couldn’t be older than eighteen. “Hey!” she interrupted him.

            “What?” he turned around, his young face contorted into a grimace he obviously meant to look tough. Shepard took a step toward him, brows furrowed. The hand he had clenched around a gun twitched nervously. “How old are you?” She asked.

            “I’m old enough! Just bought this new gun, too. Now step back grandma - ”

            Shepard grabbed the gun out of his hand, and gripping it firmly broke the handle and popped out its heat sink. “Get your money back, kid. Now get out of here.” She tossed him the mangled gun and turned back to a smirking Jacob. Miranda rolled her eyes and preceded them out of the room.

 

            The shuttle driver was easily spotted in his Blue Suns armor, and Shepard and her crew greeted him before insisting that they were the last group and they should get moving. Shepard could see a few more of the freelancers heading their way, but she didn’t want any more joining the next push. If they were going to get Archangel out of this alive, they needed fewer obstacles in their way.

            Their ride on the shuttle was quiet, the three of them avoiding talking to keep from giving their plans away. If it had been anyone from Shepard’s old crew, she would have been able to easily discuss other matters to keep up appearances and avoid suspicion. Instead she figured it was best to make it seem like they were strangers. Although, she realized, they essentially were. She had only had one conversation with Jacob, really, and her conversations with Miranda had raised so many suspicions she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to have another. Her new work with Cerberus was causing her more anxiety than her work as a Spectre, and that was saying something. What she wouldn’t give to have even just one trustworthy member of her old crew with her. Mildly she realized that they would all have reservations about joining her now that she was with Cerberus, and she found herself wondering if any of them would still have her back should she try to recruit them to her team.

            Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the shuttle landing, and she exited with the other two. The sound of gunfire surrounded them, and Shepard took a moment to note its pattern. Bursts of fire from what sounded like a group, met moments later by one shot followed instantly by a scream of pain. Again, a burst of fire from a group, answered by a single shot and a body falling. Shepard nodded to herself, recognizing that having such a great marksman would be an incredible asset to her team. She approached the nearest mercenary to ask the plan, and was then directed toward the front.

            “ _Shepard_ ,” she heard in her ear.

            “What is it EDI?” she responded to the AI over her comm.

            “ _I have determined several ways to sabotage the mercenary’s current plans in order to help you rescue Archangel.”_

            Shepard smiled to herself. “Send me nav points, EDI, that certainly sounds handy.”

            The nav points led to the console for the mercenaries’ mechs, which she used to change their targeting, confusing friendlies for enemies. The other was to the mechanic working on fixing the gun ship. After a brief conversation, she waited until no one could see her and hit his suit’s energy pack with a nearby wrench, causing it to short and electrocute him. She left his inert body behind a stack of crates and then made her way to the meeting point for the next push, Miranda and Jacob behind her, guns out and ready. “On my signal,” she whispered to them, and then pushed forward with the next wave of mercenaries toward Archangel’s position.

            Archangel had positioned himself above a bridge, from which vantage point he could see every mercenary coming at him and pick them off easily. Shepard and her crew walked slightly slower than the others, and as Archangel began picking off the first mercenaries to cross the bridge, Shepard aimed her gun at the back of a particularly large human and pulled the trigger. Miranda and Jacob also took aim, and picked off two of the other freelancers. After several moments of chaotic confusion during which the three of them managed to take out three more mercenaries, the group they were pushing with finally realized they had traitors in their midst and began firing back. Shepard ducked behind cover, Miranda and Jacob to her right, and continued firing at the mercenaries. In a wild moment she found herself hoping Archangel wasn’t so sleep deprived that he still targeted them as well. As soon as she had that thought, she found a large Batarian who was charging her taken out from one of Archangel’s well aimed shots, and was reassured.

            They managed to quickly cross the bridge, fighting their way through the mercenaries in front of them, and made it to the bottom of the stairs to reach Archangel. Shepard holstered her gun and ran up the stairs, releasing the latches on her helmet as she ascended. She saw the tall, Turian form of Archangel set his gun down and begin to remove his own helmet. He was chuckling ever so slightly, a twangy note of sub harmonics accenting the sound.

            “Archangel?” Shepard asked as she approached. Archangel set his helmet down and then turned, sitting down on some nearby crates to face them. Shepard’s breath caught and for a moment she could do nothing but stare, her hands on either side of her helmet, unable to finish the act of taking it off. How could she not have known? She had seen him in action, she knew how well he aimed and he could take out anyone. But still she found herself in speechless shock, momentarily stunned to see him sitting in front of her, alive and well.

            “Shepard,” he said. He was staring at her as if he couldn’t believe she was standing in front of him. Maybe he thought he was hallucinating from lack of sleep. She finished taking her helmet off and held it loosely in one hand. His eyes searched her face for a few moments, roaming over her still healing scars, an odd look in his eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

            “Garrus!” she cried, her voice cracking a little. Of all the friendly faces she had been hoping to see, his had been at the top of the list. But she had never dreamed she would, especially not like this. “Garrus, what are you doing here?”

            “Just keeping my skills sharp, a little target practice.” He still had that look in his eyes, but he smiled ever so slightly.

            “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer.

            “I’ve been better. Still, it’s good to see a friendly face.” _You and me both_ , she thought. He sighed. “Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own.”

            “What are you even doing out here on Omega? I thought you returned to the Citadel.”

            “I did, for a time. But when I got fed up with all of the bureaucratic bullshit I came out here. Thought maybe I could do some good, bend the rules a little. I learned that from an old friend.”

            Shepard returned his smile. “How did you manage to piss off every major merc group in the Terminus Systems?”

            “It wasn’t easy,” his humor was emphasized by a wheeze of his sub harmonics, and Shepard chuckled. “I really had to work at it. And if they teamed up to take me out, they must really hate me.”

            “And uh…Archangel?” Shepard teased.

            Garrus cleared his throat. “Just a nickname the locals came up with, because of all of my, ah, good deeds.” He shook his head a little. “But please, to you, just uh, just call me Garrus.”

            Shepard continued smiling. He seemed embarrassed, but she was still just so happy to see him. Miranda clucked her tongue; she was getting impatient. “So what’s our plan? We came to get you out of here,” Shepard said, getting back to business. They could catch up later. She was determined that they would.

            For a moment he looked at her, that odd look back in his eyes. Then he looked down at his feet. “Well, now that I have some backup, we can probably make it out more easily.” He got off the crates and went back to his former vantage point. Shepard walked over to join him and look out over the bridge beneath them. He glanced sideways at her, and she could have sworn his hand twitched near her briefly. Instead he leaned down to pick his rifle back up to check its scope. “Fight our way out?”

            Shepard smiled. “I like it.”

 

* * *

 

            The four of them easily took on the waves of freelancers and mercenaries. The mercenary groups seemed to be having issues with their mechs firing on them instead of at Archangel, and the gun ship took much longer to deploy than expected. Shepard felt good for the first time since having woken up from the dead. Fighting beside Garrus again felt natural, and she finally felt like she was with someone who had her back as much as she had his. The flow of battle took on a pattern and rhythm that was incredibly familiar to her, and she noticed that Garrus seemed reinvigorated by it.

            “I think that was the last of them,” Miranda called out, looking out over the bloodied bridge.

            “Good, now let’s get you out of here,” Shepard said, standing and checking how much ammo she had left in her guns.

            “Finally. I can’t wait to get off this station,” Jacob stood as well, stretching.

            Garrus stood, looking around with concern etched on his Turian features. He hadn’t put his helmet back on. “Something’s not right,” he muttered. Shepard heard it too, a low rumble sounding as though it was approaching faster every minute.

            “The gun ship!” she exclaimed as all hell broke loose. The four of them jumped behind cover as the ship’s machine guns let loose into their hiding place. Garrus tried to pop out of hiding, intending to take out the Blood Pack leader, who was sitting in the pilot seat. And that’s when it happened. The gun ship fired a missile that struck Garrus, and he flipped to the ground, unmoving. “Garrus!” Shepard screamed, but she couldn’t even hear herself over the continual assault of the guns.

            What followed was an incredibly intense battle, Shepard trying her best to keep her creeping feelings of doubt and fear from making her incapable of defeating the gun ship. He’ll be okay, she kept telling herself. He’s fine, he’s made of tough shit. With one final shockwave of her biotics, she managed to slam the ship into the wall behind it, and Miranda and Jacob took the opportunity to make quick work of the Krogan leader.

            Shepard ran over to Garrus as soon as she was sure the battle was over, and turned him on his side. One side of his face was badly mangled, covered in deep blue blood; but she could tell he was breathing, even if just barely. She cracked open a medi-gel dispenser with her teeth and applied some hastily to the worst spot. “You’ll be okay, stay with me, Garrus, you’re fine, you’re fine,” she kept muttering under her breath. Having stopped some of the worst bleeding, she holstered her guns and pulled one of his arms around her shoulders. Jacob rushed forward to grab the other and together they hoisted Garrus up between them. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

  

            “How bad is it, Doctor?” Shepard asked the moment Dr. Chakwas left the med bay. Shepard had been waiting outside the doors, pacing the mess hall in her sweaty, blood covered armor.

            “He’ll have scarring, Commander, but otherwise he’ll be fine,” Chakwas reassured her. “In the meantime, he needs his rest. He should be up on his feet by morning, but for now I’ve given him a sedative and some hydration.” Shepard nodded absently. She was overwhelmed with her relief, and words failed her. “Commander, you should also try to get some rest. Or at least change out of that armor, you smell worse than a varren in heat.”

            Shepard smiled. “Thank you, Doctor. But I still have work to do on Omega. I should try to get it done so we can leave this hellhole.” Doctor Chakwas sighed but didn’t argue, and returned to the med bay. Determined to keep her mind off her worry, Shepard turned and headed back to the elevator. “EDI, have Miranda and Jacob meet me at the airlock. We still need to recruit our Salarian scientist.”


	2. Hot & Cold

            Shepard had never felt more desperately in need of a shower as she did now. Getting the Salarian on board had meant traveling through the slums of Omega, where a plague was running rampant and mercenary groups were taking advantage to loot and take over the area. The fact that the plague was most likely Collector created had been an interesting turn, but after the last two missions on Omega Shepard just wanted a hot shower and her bed. And to get out of her fucking dirty armor.

            She split off from where Miranda and their newest recruit Mordin were discussing where he could get set up to begin his research and headed straight for the elevator. The ride up to her cabin was short, and she began peeling her armor off as soon as she exited and headed into her room. Carelessly she threw pieces of her armor on the floor and stumbled into the bathroom, where she turned the shower as hot as she could get it. Shepard spent half an hour just standing under the water, steam filling the small bathroom until it was her own personal sauna. Her muscles ached, and she finally let her mind relax and wander.

            In the few quiet moments like this that she’d had the last few days, she tried to remember the previous two years, but she found only brief fragments of moments when she woke up on the table in the Cerberus lab. Everything else was blackness, empty nothingness in her mind from the time she suffocated in space to the moment Miranda woke her up over the comm system. Shepard shuddered suddenly, even though the water was still very hot on her skin. The memory of her death still felt fresh, even though it was two years before. She clutched her throat and took deep breaths, reminding herself that she could breathe. After several deep inhales, she felt the panic subsiding. I need a drink, she thought, and finally switched her shower off.

            Dressed in some N7 sweats and a white tank top, she put her wet, dark red hair in a small messy bun and left her cabin for the mess hall. Maybe she would stop by and check on Garrus while she was there. He would probably be awake by now.

             The elevator door opened and she was surprised to see the one she sought standing in front of her. “Garrus! What are you doing out of the med bay? Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

            He stepped back to let her exit the elevator. The right side of his face was badly scarred but not nearly as horribly as she had expected it to be. He gingerly reached a hand up to it. “I’ve been in the med bay for the last ten hours resting – I think I’ve had enough, Shepard. I was coming to see you, actually,” he lowered his hand and turned the right side of his face toward her. “Dr. Chakwas wouldn’t give me a mirror, so I have no idea…How bad is it, really?”

            Shepard looked him over for a moment and then sighed. “It’s definitely going to scar.”

            Garrus laughed mildly. “Well, some women go crazy for men with scars. Then again those women are mostly Krogan.”

            Shepard joined him in his laughter. It was so nice to feel this camaraderie again. “I was going to have a drink, want to join me?” she asked. He nodded his agreement and they made their way to the port observation deck, which included a bar. Garrus looked out the window while Shepard poured the drinks, whiskey neat for her, and the Turian equivalent for him. She walked over to where he was standing and passed him his glass. For a long time, they stood staring out the window and sipped their drinks in silence.

            Finally, Garrus turned to look at her. “I’m glad you’re back, Shepard, I really am,” he began. She looked at him and smiled. “But Cerberus, Shepard? Don’t you remember what they were doing two years ago? The experiments we stopped, the people they killed?”

            Shepard nodded. “I do remember all of that. And I’m not working _for_ Cerberus, Garrus,” she turned to face him completely. He needed to hear this, needed to understand. He was the only one who truly would. “But I am working with them, using them and their resources to get to the bottom of the Collector attacks, trying to find what they want with human colonies and whether or not they’re tied to the Reapers.” Her brow furrowed and she looked down into her already almost empty glass. “It’s not so horrible to take advantage of a willing ally to achieve a worthy goal, is it? Cerberus is offering us unlimited resources to get at this problem, to track the Reapers…I need to do this, and I need to have people that I trust at my back, keeping me sane. People like you.”

            Garrus stared at her for a moment, and then nodded. “You’re right, Shepard, of course. If they want to throw resources at you to achieve your goal, why not work with them?” He contemplated his empty glass. “And you know me - I’ll always have your back.”

            “Thank you, Garrus,” she whispered.

            “Now, it seems like we both have a drinking problem. Let me get us both another drink and you can tell me all about coming back from the dead, and I can tell you about Archangel.” He took her glass from her hand and walked over to the bar. She chuckled as she sat down on the sofa and curled her legs up under her.

            “I think your story will be more interesting than mine, Garrus,” she stated. “Mine mostly involves sleeping on a table in a Cerberus lab for two years.”

            “You don’t remember anything?” He brought their replenished glasses over and handed hers over. He took his seat beside her on the sofa, his arm resting casually on the back cushions behind her shoulders. The thought of moving away from him didn’t even cross her mind, and instead she leaned back until her side rested close to his armored chest. His calming presence and soothing voice made her feel like maybe she could talk about it. He was one of her closest friends, after all.

            “I remember…dying,” she began, but then faltered. Her throat tightened and she raised a slim white hand to her neck. She brought her glass to her lips and drank deeply. Her hand dropped from her throat and she shook her head. The moment had passed quickly, but she looked up to see Garrus watching her intensely, his face much closer to hers than she had remembered. Suddenly she felt warm, and wondered if the whiskey was going to her head faster than she thought. “It’s Joker’s fault, really,” she joked, looking down at the glass in her hands. “He wanted to go down with his ship.”

            Garrus laughed but it almost sounded more like a growl. “Remind me to talk to him about that next time I go up to the cockpit,” he drawled, swirling his drink lazily in his hand.

            “I kind of need him to fly my ship, so I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” she said through her laughter. “But, after that little mishap, I don’t remember anything really. There’s one or two moments where I think I came to, I remember seeing Miranda and Wesley looking down at me, talking over me. Everything else is just…nothing. It’s blackness. A huge gap in my memory. It was like a long, dreamless sleep. If it weren’t for everyone telling me it’s been two years, I’d swear it had only been a few days or weeks. I was dying and then woke up to Miranda telling me to get a gun, that I had to defend myself.”

            “Defend yourself?”

            “Yeah, Wesley turned traitor, he sold us out and the base was under attack. It was quite the rude awakening.” Shepard took a sip and stared out the window. Garrus was still looking at her, sitting so near she could feel his cold armor against her bare arm. She still felt that pleasant warmth she attributed to the whiskey, and yet a shiver passed down her spine and she felt her skin prickling with goose bumps. What was happening? Was talking about all of this upsetting her? Yet she didn’t feel upset anymore. Instead, she felt uncharacteristically content.

            “Are you cold, Shepard?” Garrus asked. He must have seen her shudder.

            “No, just remembering, I suppose,” she lied.

            He finally raised his head from staring at her to look out the window and took a sip of his drink. “For what it’s worth, Shepard, I’m sorry.”

            She looked at him, thoroughly puzzled. “Sorry for what, Garrus?”

            “I keep feeling like I should have been there, I should have been on the Normandy with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have died. Maybe -”

            “Garrus, no, please stop. If you had been there you could have died, and I,” she took a deep breath, she felt her throat tighten, “I can’t even bear to think about that. You’re my closest friend…Please don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m back, now.” He looked down at her and their eyes met and held. She felt like shivering again, and she was beginning to understand why. She still had goose bumps.

            She was the first to break their gaze and she hastily took a drink to steady her suddenly fraught nerves. Awkwardly clearing her throat she said, “Now, since I’m back, tell me about Archangel. How did you end up on Omega?”

            “I tried going back to C-Sec, but I hardly lasted two months before I got sick of the bureaucratic red tape keeping me from actually doing anything at all. I could barely sneeze without having to fill out three forms exploring why and asking permission for my next sneeze.” He shook his head. Shepard laughed and he glared at her.

            “I’ve seen you sneeze Vakarian, I know for a fact they probably had good reason for those forms,” she teased. He chuckled.

            “Oh ha ha, Shepard. You’ve gotten funnier since you were brought back to life,” he quipped back at her. “But, well, with you I had experienced a life without red tape. I was frustrated. And then…” He trailed off and stared out the window, suddenly distant. She watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she chimed in, “And then what?”

            “Well, I got the news that you had died.” He hung his head. She stared at him, silent and in mild disbelief. Had her death had that much of an impact on him? No wonder he looked at me so strangely when he saw me on Omega, Shepard thought. After a long silence he continued, “And well I figured life was short, why spend it filling out bullshit forms? So I headed out to Omega, hoping to do some good outside the lines, without the red tape.”

            “And did you?”

            “For a time, yes. I found a small group of people, good people, who had been fucked over by the groups on Omega for too long and wanted to do something about it. We interrupted their operations, stole shipments, incapacitated them before disappearing without a trace. We were incredibly effective, for a while.” He fell silent again, contemplating his empty glass. Shepard stood up and took it from his hand, walking back to the bar to pour them both refills.

            Garrus sat silently looking out the window, lost in thought. When Shepard returned to the sofa, she accidentally misjudged where she was going to sit and sat too close to him, their sides now overlapping. She almost expected him to say something, and yet when she tried to scoot to the side, the arm that he had draped over the sofa behind her tightened ever so slightly, hinting that he wanted her to stay. She passed him his drink and tried to settle back comfortably against his armor. Nervously Shepard took a drink, trying to quash any obvious signs of her awakening feelings. The goose bumps had returned though.

            “So, how did you end up with all three merc gangs coming at you across that bridge?” Shepard finally broke the silence to ask.

            “I was betrayed, by one of my men,” he replied quietly. “By the time I realized it, it was too late. I lost my whole crew. And then…well, I was attacked, and did my best to hold them off.”

            “I’m so sorry, Garrus,” Shepard whispered. Instinctively she reached a hand over to his, and she clumsily squeezed it as it held his glass of Turian whiskey. It took her a moment to realize what she’d done, because the action had felt so natural. She quickly pulled her hand away, took a large gulp of her whiskey, and choked on some that went down the wrong pipe. Garrus’ eye plates were raised the tiniest bit, his gaze directed at his hand. Shepard coughed, looking away from him. He seemed almost as surprised as she was; they had never touched like this before. Shepard was starting to feel flushed and even a little tipsy. She thought quickly and realized maybe she should go, before she said or did something that could ruin their friendship and reunion.

            Draining the rest of her glass in one large gulp, she stood and stretched. “I had a really long day, I should probably head up,” she muttered.

            “Yeah, I really should get over to the battery. I want to take a look at the guns, make sure they’re still up to par.” He stood as well, towering over her as he moved beside her. She looked up and realized just how big he was compared to her, and for a moment all she could do was stare up at him. She gave herself a little shake and stepped away, setting her glass on the bar.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and hurried out of the room to the elevator.


	3. New Feelings

            Back in her cabin, she sat in front of her private terminal, staring at a blank extranet search page, trying to decide if she dared look up what she was thinking about. The whiskey was telling her it was a good idea, but her sore muscles were telling her to just have a glass of water and get in bed. She tapped her fingers on the desk, debating internally. The curiosity was almost too much for her, but her need for sleep overwhelmed her.

            I’ll fall down that rabbit hole some other time, she thought wearily. She stood and walked over to her bed, stripping off her sweats before she pulled back the sheets and climbed in.

            Once inside the cocoon of sheets, she lay letting herself think over their time in the observation deck. The cool feeling of her bed reminded her of his armor against her skin, and again she found herself wondering what Turians looked like under all of their armor. She thought for a moment that she should find it odd to be so attracted to an alien, yet she realized that it was more about Garrus than it was about anything else. She had always sought him out on the old Normandy during their hunt for Saren, and had enjoyed their talks more than any she had with the rest of the crew. They had spent many nights working on the Mako and swapping stories, laughter coming naturally to them during their time together. Maybe I always liked him, Shepard thought. Kaidan’s persistent pursuit may have just distracted her from the nature of her feelings before.

            Kaidan…

            She thought about that night before Ilos, when Kaidan had come to her room and taken her in his arms. The idea that she may die the next day had definitely spurred her to accept his tender caresses, and they had shared a sweet, rather desperate night together. Shepard had had no illusions, though. But she worried sometimes that Kaidan had intended for it to be more than one night. Her death had complicated the issue and she had never had a chance to discuss it with him.

            Her thoughts shifted back to Garrus, and she tried to picture what would have happened had he come to her room instead. The thought intrigued her, and her body felt warm again. Dimly she realized how long it had actually been since that night before Ilos, and she felt her body tingle. She leisurely stroked her way down her own body until she found the waistband of her underwear and slipped her hand under it. Her fingers explored inside her lips, and she found that she was already wet. It’s that damn voice of his, she thought, as she remembered how closely he had been sitting to her, the way he had stared into her eyes. Her fingers slowly worked their way to her clit, and she teased herself by dragging her finger around in languid circles before touching it directly. Her heart was racing and she remembered how he had given her goose bumps. She wondered what he might have done if she had straddled him on the sofa. Would he have accepted her?

            A picture grew in her mind of him dragging her tank top off of her, his talons raking down her naked back as his tongue teased her nipples. She tried to imagine him naked, she thought about what he would look like, hard and ready for her to ride. She had heard enough from Asari and a few other humans to have an idea what it might look like, even though she’d never seen one personally. Her fingers began to move faster, and she put a little more pressure on her clit, sending a shudder of pleasure through her limbs. She thought about him inside of her, about how he would look above her, thrusting wildly in her as she cried out.

            She felt herself getting close and slowed again. She wasn’t ready for release yet, she wanted to keep thinking about him fucking her, what it would have been like if he had flipped her on her back on the sofa and taken her right then and there. She imagined his talons biting into her hips as he did so, his heavy panting punctuated by his wonderful voice and those sub harmonics that gave her goose bumps. Her fingers sped up again on her clit, and then she teased herself by stopping her attention there and sliding her fingers into herself. She was so wet now she had no issue inserting a few fingers into herself, stroking slowly and thinking about Garrus’ girth inside of her. She moaned at the thought of being filled completely by him.

            That night before Ilos would have been so different with him, and tonight’s reunion would have taken place in this bed instead of the observation deck. She pulled her fingers out of herself and she rubbed her wetness onto her clit, massaging herself again in a steady rhythm. She imagined a lust-filled reunion between the two of them, unable to make it in the door without tearing each other’s clothes off and him pinning her against the fish tank. They wouldn’t make it to the bed, instead he would pick her legs up and wrap them around himself, pushing hard and fast into her as she begged him to go faster –

            Her orgasm finally hit her, so hard that she actually cried out as she writhed on the bed. Her other hand clenched the sheets roughly and she bucked her hips as though Garrus were in bed with her, responding to imagined thrusts that she wished desperately were real. It had been over two years and the intensity of her orgasm surprised her; it continued until she shook and made her pant heavily, still imagining what he would feel like inside of her. The waves of her passion finally died down and she lay completely unmoving, her hand still shoved down the front of her underwear. After several long minutes, she sighed and removed her hand, rolling onto her side to go to sleep.

            Tonight she felt confident that she would sleep better than she had since waking up in the Cerberus labs. But she also realized that tomorrow she would have to face Garrus and figure out what to do about all of these newly discovered desires and feelings.


	4. A Mission

            Shepard awoke with her first alarm, more rested than she had been in a long time. She felt no ill effects of the whiskey, but instead felt ready to take on whatever the day threw at her. Getting out of bed she stretched her still sore muscles for a few minutes before walking to her footlocker to grab some pants and a shirt so she could head down to the mess hall. She continued stretching her sore shoulders as she took the solitary elevator ride.

            As she grabbed herself a meal bar from the cupboards in the small kitchen, she contemplated checking out the battery to see if Garrus was there. Before she got a chance to follow through on her thoughts, though, she heard EDI call out for her on the comms.

            “Yes, EDI?” she replied, tearing open the meal bar’s packaging with her teeth while she simultaneously poured herself a cup of black coffee from a small pot.

            “The Illusive Man is on the line for you in the Comm Room. He said it was urgent.” The AI’s voice rang out in the near empty mess hall.

            “Tell him I’ll be right there.” Shepard sighed and took a huge bite of her lackluster breakfast as she walked back to the elevator, coffee in hand.

           

            The briefing table descended into the floor as she entered the room and the comm. platform rose, waiting for her to step onto it. Taking a large gulp of coffee she stepped into the comm. projector. The Illusive Man appeared before her, smoking his usual cigarette. “Shepard,” he began, “We’ve got our strongest lead yet. A colony on Horizon just went dark.”

            “The Collectors?” Shepard sipped her coffee again, thinking hard. An actual chance to stop them, she mused.

            “We believe so. Go to Horizon with your team, see what you can find, see what you can stop.” The Illusive Man took a drag on his cigarette. “Has Mordin had any luck with countering the Collectors’ toxin yet?”

            Shepard smiled wryly. “Let’s hope so.”

            “Put some pressure on him. I need you to get to Horizon as soon as possible. Illusive Man out.”

            The holograph faded and Shepard quickly descended the platform and exited the room as the briefing table began to replace the comm. projector. She half-jogged to the tech lab where Mordin had set himself up and saw the Salarian hard at work, bent over a table covered in test tubes and beakers.

            “Dr. Solus, any progress on that antidote?” She asked briskly.

            “Just Mordin, please, Commander. So far success, seems more tailored to human physiology, similar to plague’s tailoring to other species. Blood sample would help, have yet to ask anyone,” he rattled off quickly as he worked. Shepard held her arm out to him, pushing her sleeve back on her upper arm.

            “Here’s your blood sample,” she said. The Salarian’s eyes lit up and he wiped her arm with disinfectant and drew blood so quickly she hardly had time to register that it was happening before it was over.

            “Yes, yes, perfect, should be final key. Will have antidote ready in one, two hours,” he looked up at her briefly. “Then will just need field test to determine success.”

            “Wait, you’re saying we won’t know if it’s fully effective until we’re out there in the field?”

            “Impossible to be one hundred percent sure unless tested in actual circumstances. I must be honest that I will not be able to assure you of effectiveness without field test. Unethical not to tell commander of risks.”

            Shepard sighed. “Well, you’ll have your field test soon enough. We’ll be at Horizon in two hours. I need it by then.”

            Mordin nodded, still bent over his work. Shepard picked her coffee up from the table and headed off to Miranda’s office to tell her about Horizon. She wanted to keep the conversation brief, and so she barely poked her head in and gave her the shortest mission details she could. Then she veered off the mess hall and followed the hallway to the main battery. Garrus needed to know. Plus she found herself wanting to see him, more than she wanted to admit to herself.

            When the door to the battery opened she saw Garrus standing at the gun console, his omni-tool held up as he worked through something. “Garrus? Have a minute?” Shepard queried, walking to stand just behind him. She could see that he was searching something on the extranet, but couldn’t make out exactly what he was searching. She thought she maybe saw an image of skin, but couldn’t be sure.

            “Shepard!” he quickly closed his omni-tool and turned to face her. “I’ve just been trying to get these guns calibrated, what’s up?”

            She noticed that he seemed a little flustered, but decided not to comment on it. “We have a mission. A human colony on Horizon just went dark, the Illusive Man thinks it’s being hit by the Collectors.”

            Garrus folded his arms and leaned against the console. “So an actual chance to stop them in the act?”

            “That was my thought exactly; this is our chance to find out what’s going on and why they’re targeting whole colonies like this.” Shepard paused and took a sip of her coffee. She wanted to make her next request sound professional and friendly, just like old times. But her wild imaginings of him ravishing her popped into her head and she had to take another sip of coffee to collect herself. “I’d like you to be a part of the ground team with me, if you feel up to the task. How’s your face feeling?”

            “Much better, I believe I’m fit for duty. When do we depart?” He seemed eager to be back out in the field, fighting beside her. She smiled slightly.

            “We’re headed there now, ETA is about two hours.”

            “Great, just enough time to finish my current calibrations. I’ll meet you in the armory,” and with that Garrus turned around and began his work on the console. She noticed he didn’t pull his omni-tool back up immediately, but she was pretty sure she heard him open it as the battery doors closed behind her.

 

            Two hours later Shepard stood in the armory, her freshly cleaned armor on already. She was buffing the last of some grime and blood off of her helmet when the armory door opened and Garrus and Miranda entered.

            “Shepard, I’ve gotten more information about the colony on Horizon from the Illusive Man,” Miranda informed her. “It appears one of your former Alliance colleagues is stationed there currently. A Staff Commander Alenko?”

            Shepard’s hand stopped mid-motion as she wiped her helmet, too many thoughts swirling through her mind. For some reason, the idea of seeing Kaidan again didn’t make her feel happy, instead she felt a dull dread. “What’s he doing on Horizon?” She finally managed to ask, trying to resume wiping her helmet as she avoided Garrus’ eyes. He was watching her, she could tell.

            “It seems the Alliance is trying to determine what is happening to their missing colonists, finally,” Miranda answered sardonically while checking her guns.

            “He probably won’t be happy to see us,” Shepard muttered. Looking to Garrus at last she saw him staring at her quizzically. “Cerberus, that is,” she added. Garrus nodded in quiet agreement.

            Shepard finished with her helmet and then double checked her guns. “Commander? We’ll be landing shortly,” Joker’s voice rang out over the comm. The doors to the armory opened and Mordin entered the room, carrying several syringes.

            “Commander, antidote is ready for first field test. Ninety-nine percent confident in success rate. Also synthesized Turian formula, just in case. Thank you for tissue samples.” Mordin took turns poking them all with the syringes and injecting them with the antidote. “Good luck out there, might need it,” and with that Mordin shuffled out of the armory. Shepard and the other two put their helmets on and drew their guns.

            “Jacob not joining us?” Garrus asked.

            “He and Mordin are staying behind in case the antidote doesn’t work,” Miranda replied. Shepard sighed.

            “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”


	5. Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize my timing of Horizon takes some creative license, but oh well.
> 
> xx,  
> L

            The colony was silent, so eerily so that Shepard kept looking over her shoulder, making sure the other two were still behind her. They passed several buildings that were entirely empty, and as they started surveying inside them they found signs of struggle, meals abandoned and chairs knocked over in haste.

            “They’ve already taken some of them, it looks like,” Garrus said. Shepard agreed silently before continuing through their current building. She entered what looked like a courtyard, surrounded by more silent, empty buildings. Please tell me we aren’t too late, she thought desperately.

            And then she heard it, the unnatural wail that had preceded every Geth attack; the wail of husks charging toward them. “Husks!” Shepard yelled to the other two, and opened fire as she saw their grotesque forms running down the hill that continued up to the rest of the colony. She and Miranda hurled biotics at groups of the twisted, cybernetic enemies while Garrus took his place behind cover and let loose with perfectly aimed shots from his sniper rifle. In the midst of battle she could hear him marking kills, yelling when he had taken out another. Miranda on the other hand only called out tactics, grunting when she lobbed her biotic energy at a group of husks running toward her.

            Shepard threw a husk near her back with a powerful melee of biotics, and then stopped to look around. The courtyard was silent again; the husks had all been taken out. Garrus and Miranda came out of cover and walked over to join her in the middle of the courtyard. “The Geth made husks out of humans using spikes, but I haven’t seen any around yet,” Garrus commented as he fixed his rifle’s scope.

            “The Reapers gave the Geth that technology…the Collectors must have brought these with them,” Shepard mused. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, understanding the weight of what she said. “Come on, let’s go,” Shepard broke the silence, and after taking a deep breath she pointed her gun up the hill the husks had charged them from and slowly made her way toward the rest of the colony buildings.

            This portion of the colony was just as silent, and yet was populated. Shepard’s footsteps halted and she lowered her gun in disbelief as she stared at colonists scattered between the buildings, positioned as if running and hiding and yet frozen in place. Hesitantly she approached the nearest colonist, and saw the woman’s eyes wide open in fear, arms frozen in the air blocking her head from a now absent enemy. She looked like a grotesque statue.

            “Shit,” Garrus whispered behind her.

            “It’s like some sort of stasis field,” Miranda commented, standing close to another colonist and staring into his eyes. “I think they’re aware of what’s going on around them!”

            “But unable to fight back or move,” Shepard shuddered, the idea of being trapped like that disturbed her usual stoic bravery. “We need to stop this.”

            Just then there was movement ahead of them, and several Collectors came charging out of the building ahead of them. “Get down!” Miranda shouted, and the three of them crouched behind cover. Shepard was charging her biotics when she heard it; an uncanny voice rang out across the empty space between them, claiming control of one of the Collectors before them. Shepard peered around the wall she was hiding behind and saw the hulking shape of a Collector lifted into the air, infused with glowing energy and crying out in ethereal rage.

            “I am Harbinger!” the same voice rang out, and Shepard’s eyes grew wide as she saw the hazy barrier surrounding the Collector as it touched back down on the ground, eyes glowing purple as it made its way forward. Shepard rechanneled her biotic energy, focusing on creating her own barrier; the new addition to the fight worried her.

            “What on earth is that?” Miranda shouted.

            “Target practice!” Garrus replied, as he aimed a shot at one of the other Collectors and took it out easily. Shepard aimed her own gun at Harbinger’s head, but her bullet hit the barrier and fell to the ground.

            “Damnit!” She cried, then directed a bolt of biotic energy in the same direction. Harbinger stumbled back, finally hit by something she threw his way. Miranda followed her example and managed to knock Harbinger over, and Shepard noticed his barrier was no longer shimmering before them. “Now! Hit him now!” She directed the other two. Miranda aimed another round of biotics at him, and Garrus turned his gun on the prostrate form of Harbinger. The combination of the two flung Harbinger into the air before he crashed several feet behind where he had previously laid.

            “No matter – I will take control of this unit,” the voice of Harbinger rang out again as he took control of another Collector before them.

            “Shit!” Garrus exclaimed before aiming once more at Harbinger’s pawn. “Let’s try this one more time!” The three of them used the same strategy, hoping to take Harbinger out quickly before he could make it closer to them. As soon as he hit the ground, lifeless, Shepard and her crew quickly turned their attention to the remaining Collectors, hoping to incapacitate them before another was possessed by Harbinger.

            Shepard saw the last Collector collapse to the ground, a hole in his head from Garrus’ concussive shot. She took a moment to relax against the wall she crouched behind, taking deep breaths to collect herself. What’s going on? she found herself wondering. Harbinger? Controlling Collectors? Was it Collector tech or something else?

            “Shepard, are you ok?” she heard Garrus call, and she finally pushed herself into a standing position.

            “I’m fine, yeah. Let’s keep going,” she walked brusquely by the other two, trying her best not to show the fear and worry in her features. A leader couldn’t show weakness.

            “ _Shepard, I have determined that the colony has been equipped with a missile defense system, but it is currently offline,”_ EDI’s voice rang in her ear.

            “Where are they EDI? Could we get them back online?” Shepard queried.

            “ _It should be possible, yes. Continue up the hill to the left, the missiles should be easily spotted.”_

            “This way, missile defense system,” Shepard pointed to her left, and the other two fanned out behind her as they made their way to the nav point EDI pinged on Shepard’s omni-tool.

            The consoles for the missiles were easily spotted in the middle of several buildings. Shepard cautiously approached them, waiting for an ambush at any moment. “EDI, I’m at the console, about to start bypassing the system,” she announced as she opened her omni-tool and began connecting EDI’s systems to the missiles’.

            “ _Thank you, Shepard. Please stay nearby, it will take me several minutes to accomplish my task.”_

            “Okay, get in to cover guys. We need to make sure these missiles get back online and there’s sure to be some pushback.” Shepard moved to the right of the console and ducked behind some nearby crates. Garrus and Miranda took their places on either side of her behind cover, prepared to flank enemies and defend the missiles’ console.

            Several moments of silence passed before Shepard again heard the telltale sign of husks charging from behind the buildings. “Incoming!” She said, propping her gun on top of the crate in front of her. Taking careful aim, she managed to take out three husks in rapid succession, the loud bursts of gun fire echoing from either side of her as Garrus and Miranda took several out as well. Behind the husks charged several Collectors, and Shepard again saw one of their hulking forms lifted in the air as Harbinger took over. “Harbinger!” she called out, and the three of them used their former strategy to quickly dispatch him.

            Suddenly from above came a wraithlike wail, and Shepard looked up to see a large flying Collector, an amalgam of cybernetics and flesh, bug-like and terrifying. The ground shook as it landed not far from them. “What the hell is that?” she heard Garrus call from her left.

            “Target practice! Take it out!” Miranda shouted in response, and hurled some biotics in its direction. They bounced off, barely leaving a mark on its shiny, leathery exterior. “Damn! It’s armored!”

            “I’ve got this!” Garrus yelled, and he pulled one of his mods off his belt and attached it to his rifle. He took careful aim and let loose an incredible shot which echoed through the air in the midst of the deafening battle. The shot tore through the creature’s armor and it stumbled back from the impact.

            “Nice one!” Shepard roared approvingly, and then tried hurling a biotic lance in the direction of the beast. It ripped through its wing and the large Collector screamed in agony. “Keep it up!”

            Alternating Garrus’ armor-piercing rounds and biotics from Miranda and Shepard, they were able to steadily wear the creature down until it collapsed, hardly having done any damage to the team. Momentarily distracted by their triumph, Shepard missed the group of husks who snuck up on her and began pulling at her armor. “Argggggh!” she screamed, trying to elbow the husk that clung to her waist.

            “Shepard!” Garrus cried out, and then took careful aim, trying to avoid Shepard’s flailing form. She was struggling too much and he couldn’t get a clear shot. “Stop struggling, I’ve got this!”

            Shepard felt one of the husks gripping her upper body tightly, so tightly it was becoming difficult to breathe. Panic swept over her and she found herself unable to fight against the husks’ vice-like grips. The overwhelming sensation of suffocating, of dying, clouded her mind. She was struggling in space, the Normandy was burning beneath her and her suit was malfunctioning, the icy blackness of empty space engulfing her, her lungs searing in pain as she tried desperately to take a breath…

            Suddenly a bright shockwave of purple biotic energy blinded her, and the husks fell away from her as she stumbled back from the forceful impact of the blast. Several gunshots rang out and the husks didn’t get back up from where they fell. Taking deep, rasping breaths, Shepard struggled to get her helmet off. She felt claustrophobic, she needed fresh air. Helmet free, she sank to her knees, coughing and spluttering as she tried to calm herself.

            Finally able to see clearly again, Shepard looked above her to see Miranda standing nearby, her arms still poised and ready for action, biotic energy glowing around her hands as she surveyed the scene to make sure there were no more threats. Garrus ran over to where Shepard knelt on the ground and reached down a hand to help her up. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice deeply emphasized with alarm. Shepard nodded jerkily, taking his hand and letting him hoist her to her feet. He gripped her shoulders to steady her as she wobbled on her feet, his head lowered so that he could look into her face more easily.

            “I couldn’t breathe…” she whispered, her voice cracking. She shook her head, frustrated. Get a hold of yourself, she thought angrily. She looked past Garrus’ shoulders and saw Miranda staring at her, and for the first time she saw doubt and apprehension on the other woman’s features. “Thank you,” Shepard said, looking at Miranda pointedly. Though she assumed Miranda saving her had more to do with her being a huge investment for Cerberus, she couldn’t help but wonder at the look of genuine anxiety on her companion’s face. Maybe she’s not as bad as she seems, Shepard considered.

            “ _Shepard, I have managed to activate the missile defense system,”_ The AI interrupted the Commander’s musings.

            “Good work EDI. Now let’s take care of the Collector ship above the colony.”

            “ _Right away.”_

            Shepard took a step away from Garrus, finally confident that she could stand on her own two feet. She looked into his eyes and gave a tiny smile, trying to reassure him that she was all right. He gave an affirmative jerk of his head and turned away from her to pick up his rifle from where he had dropped it when he rushed to her side. Miranda awkwardly checked her guns, still silent and yet to acknowledge Shepard’s gratitude. The silence of the courtyard was broken by the missiles launching at the large Collector ship that was hanging ominously in the atmosphere. As the missiles approached it, the ship began to pull away from the planet, but even at this distance it still seemed that at least some of the missiles had made contact. However, directly after that the ship jumped into FTL and disappeared from view. “Damn it,” Shepard muttered.

            “Well on the bright side, they didn’t get all of the colonists,” Garrus said as he looked around. The colonists around them were beginning to wake up, some falling as the paralysis of the stasis field wore off. Cries of relief, fear, and joy rang out as they began to greet each other and look for other survivors.

            “Shepard?” a deep voice rang out in disbelief, and Shepard turned to see Kaidan walking hesitantly toward her.

            “Kaidan!” she called out, and took a few steps to meet him. He looked as though he couldn’t believe she were standing before him, but his eyes held more betrayal than Garrus’ had upon first seeing her alive. Kaidan faltered for a moment longer, and then reached out to take her in his arms. She acquiesced to his hug, relieved to see another friendly face but concerned about what would happen when the hug broke. She distinctly remembered his feelings about Cerberus.

            “I – I thought you were dead,” Kaidan’s voice was barely audible as he pulled away from her and stood close, looking over her face. He took in the healing scars on her cheeks and then looked intently into her eyes as though determining if it was actually her.

            “It’s a long story,” Shepard replied. She wished he’d stop looking at her like a sad puppy. “What are you doing on Horizon?”

            “I was sent here to determine what was happening to our colonies in the Terminus Systems. The Alliance believes it to be Cerberus’ work.”

            Behind her, Miranda scoffed. “Oh please, can you honestly believe that after what you just experienced? Why would Cerberus do this?”

            Kaidan studied Miranda critically, and then noticed the Cerberus logo on her top. His brows furrowed and he turned his critical glare at Shepard. “Shepard, are you – are you with Cerberus now?” The accusation was heavy in his tone, and she cringed internally.

            “It’s complicated,” she began, unsure how to explain. She looked at him for a moment, hoping to make him understand. “We’re tracking the Collectors’ attacks on the colonies, we think it’s the Reapers…”

            Kaidan took a few steps back from her. “Cerberus, Shepard? How could you? Don’t you remember their methods - don’t you remember what they were doing, what we tried to stop?”

            “Kaidan,” she started, but he cut her off.

            “Who are you? Are you still Commander Shepard?” he stared at her in continued disbelief. “Don’t you remember what we stood for?”

            Her jaw dropped and she felt her eyes sting at his words. What else did you expect, she thought wearily. She felt her fists clench. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on! Entire colonies of humans are going missing, and all the Alliance thought to do was send one person to a colony to pretend to defend it!” Her voice was rising and she began to shake with fury. “I’m actually trying to stop this, what are you doing?”

            Kaidan shook his head, and looked away from her. He spotted Garrus behind her. “Garrus, you too? You’re willing to work with Cerberus?”

            “If it gets the job done and stops the Reapers, there’s a lot I’m willing to do,” Garrus replied smoothly, a deep rasp present in his harmonics. He sounded on the verge of anger as well, his voice lowered dangerously. “You should hear Shepard out.”

            But the man in front of her looked back into her eyes with distrust and suspicion etched on his face. She released her fists and tried to calm herself. “Kaidan, there’s something big going on. I’m trying to figure out what it is. Please, help me.”

            A long moment passed as he stared at her, then he spoke slowly, deliberately, “No, Shepard. I’m sorry, but I know who I am and where my allegiances lie. I won’t leave the Alliance.” He stared at his feet before continuing, “I thought I meant something to you, I thought we had something real. But did we? Thinking you were dead tore me apart. Why didn’t you contact me? How can you just show up like this, like nothing happened? How could you put me through that?”

            Shepard held his eye contact when he raised his head again, unsure of how to respond. He had meant something to her once, but she had been right to worry that that there had been unbalanced feelings between them. She cleared her throat and finally looked away. “Like I said, it’s complicated, Kaidan, and best not handled here in the middle of a colony that just lost half or more of its people.” Her tone was harsher than she meant, but she felt defensive under the onslaught of his accusations. “You don’t want to join me, that’s fine, but let me see what other information I can get from this situation. We share common goals even if we’re willing to use different means to achieve them.”

            He snorted scornfully and turned away from her, shaking his head. “Fine, Shepard.” And with that he walked away from her toward a colonist to offer his assistance. Shepard stood still, trying to collect her thoughts and calm her emotions. She had known some of her former teammates would react negatively to her new associations. But that knowledge hadn’t made the actual confrontation any easier.

 

* * *

 

 

            Miranda glared at Shepard as the Commander threw her helmet roughly on the bench of the armory. They had acquired little new information after her fight with Kaidan, and Shepard felt frustrated beyond measure. Garrus lingered behind the Commander as Miranda stalked out of the room to return to her office; he was waiting for Shepard to say something. But instead of saying anything to reassure or open up to him, Shepard continued to remove her weapons and armor in furious silence.

            He appeared to sense her inability to calmly discuss what had happened, and as she stripped off her armor he moved to stand beside her at the bench. Slowly and methodically, Garrus took his rifle apart to check its parts and clean what needed cleaning. His unhurried, even movements and bulky, sturdy presence had a soothing effect on her. She began to take deep breaths as she checked her own weapons, having stripped down to her greaves and boots. The shirt she wore under her armor was damp with perspiration, and she wished she could take it off but wasn’t sure what effect that would have on her companion. Now’s not that moment, Shepard thought blandly, but she was feeling calmer already. After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Is that what everyone is going to think of me?”

            She bit her lip and rested her hands on the bench, hanging her head. Her words sounded like a confession; it hadn’t quite been what she had meant to say, but the words came out before she could stop herself. Garrus stopped with his scope still held up to his eye, taking a moment to consider her question. “You had to know it would ruffle a few feathers to join up with Cerberus,” he confided honestly. “But I would hope more of our team would see it as the pragmatism it is.”

            She sighed, and he put his scope on the bench and turned to face her. She raised her head until her neck was all the way back; this close up he positively towered over her. “Shepard, you know Kaidan better than I do. You remember how…emotional he could get,” Garrus paused, and she tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Was he jealous? She shook the thought from her mind. She doubted there was any chance of that.

            “You think this was just, what, him being angry that I didn’t call?” Shepard denied it vehemently. “What we had…” She trailed off, suddenly awkward. But Garrus was her friend, right? She could talk with him about this, she just needed to do it carefully so that she didn’t discourage him or give too much away. “It was two years ago, and he thought I was dead. Surely he moved on,” she pondered.

            Garrus gave a cynical laugh. “Shepard, I think you underestimate his feelings for you; they were pretty obvious to the rest of us on the Normandy. I also think you fail to see things from his perspective.” She gave him a quizzical frown, and he leaned his hands on the bench as he mulled over his words carefully. “For him, it’s been two years, two years mourning your death. But from his perspective, now, those were two years you didn’t contact him. You didn’t exactly tell him you actually were dead for those two years. And besides, you said it yourself, for you it felt like just a few days or weeks. That means that whatever happened between you two was fairly recent to you.”

            Shepard was staring at Garrus’ hands, so large beside her own on the bench. She was trying to absorb his words, but they were uncomfortable and she wanted desperately to not have to listen anymore. “If you want to fix this with him, you should -” he began, but she cut him off.

            “No, that’s not,” she hesitated, slightly startled about how hastily she wanted to correct that line of thought for him. “That’s not what this is about, Garrus. What he and I had…it wasn’t what he thought, apparently. And maybe I should have been better about setting things straight then, but I can’t undo that.” She sighed again, facing Garrus. “What about when we see Liara? What about Tali? I saw her, before I found you on Omega, and she was definitely disturbed that I was with Cerberus now. I just…I don’t know if I can handle everyone I trusted so much turning their backs on me.”

            Garrus faced her once more, removing his hands from the bench and lifting them near her shoulders. He seemed unsure for a fracture of a second before he rested them on her shoulders, his thumbs resting on her collarbone, their weight gentle and reassuring to her. “Not everyone, Shepard. Some of them will see the truth. And at least one of them already has.” She smiled up at him, trying to keep her eyes from watering. Crying was something she never did, but she felt touched that he had so much faith in her.

            “Thank you, Garrus,” she murmured.

            He cleared his throat and removed his hands from her shoulders. “Now come on, get out of the rest of that armor and let’s go have a drink.”


	6. Request

            It had been weeks, almost a month, and she still fell asleep to lucid dreams of Garrus having his way with her in some deserted part of the Normandy. Shepard had acquired several more crew members over the last few weeks: a tank bred Krogan, a master thief, an incredibly powerful biotic who seemed more than a little mentally scarred, a Drell assassin, and an Asari justicar. But she still sought Garrus’ companionship and counsel out more than any of the others. He stood beside her on every ground mission, which she was sure she had heard some of the Cerberus crew muttering about when they thought she wasn’t listening. Lately, though, when she had gone to see him in the main battery he had claimed to be too busy calibrating the guns to talk. Some nights he still joined her for a drink in the mess hall, their old spot in the observation deck taken up by the thief Kasumi. But they had definitely been seeing less of each other, much to Shepard’s frustration.

            Shepard was sitting at her private terminal in her cabin, trying to ignore the gnawing need to go down to the battery and talk to Garrus before she went to sleep. Her terminal beeped, signaling a new message as she stared blankly at the monitor. Clicking open the message, she raised her eyebrows in surprise to see that it was from Kaidan, titled “About Horizon…”

 

            _Shepard,_

_I’m sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I’d finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know?_

_Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don’t know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me…maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can’t just put that aside._

_But please be careful. I’ve watched too many people close to me die – on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you again. If you’re still the woman I remember I know you’ll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself._

_When things settle down a little…maybe…I don’t know. Just take care._

_Kaidan_

 

            She read the message over twice before placing her forehead in her hands, sighing deeply. Garrus had been right, she thought in disbelief. It had been a lover’s spat, not entirely a fight over her integrity and new perceived allegiances. Digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, she tried to think how best to reply to a message like this. How could she respond to such a heartfelt message with ‘it was just a one night stand before we maybe died saving the galaxy, sorry to have to break it to you?’

            Shepard pushed away from the terminal and stood, determined now for a friendly face. She needed reassurance that she wasn’t as heartless as she currently felt. She never had been great at relationships…

            Walking swiftly from her cabin she waited impatiently for the elevator to reach her, and roughly jammed the button for the floor she needed once she stepped inside. Her finger pounding from the forceful contact with the elevator button, she hurried around the corner through the mess hall toward the main battery. The doors opened for her and sure enough, there he was, his back to the door and bent over the console like always.

            “Hey Garrus,” she announced herself, trying to keep her voice even and casual.

            “Shepard,” he said, not looking up from his work. “I was actually going to tell Chambers that I would like to speak with you, but you beat me to the punch. Do you have a minute?”

            “Of course, I always have time for you,” she leaned against the railing beside the console, folding her arms and still attempting to keep her face and tone neutral. Garrus finished up what he was working on and then stepped back. He looked irritated and yet triumphant.

            “Do you remember me saying that I was betrayed by one of my men?” he asked. She nodded.

            “You never told me exactly what happened,” Shepard noticed.

            “It was my own damn fault. A Turian named Sidonis. He drew me away just before the mercs attacked my squad, then he disappeared,” he paced before her, his irritation growing at the memory. “Everyone except me is dead because of him. And because I didn’t see it coming.”

            “I’m not sure I understand,” Shepard said.

            “Sidonis asked for my help on a job. When I got to the meeting point, no one was there.” He turned to face her, stopping his pacing. “By the time I got back to our hideout, the mercs had killed all but two of my squad. And they didn’t last long.”

            “Are you sure it was a betrayal? Maybe they took Sidonis out first,” Shepard suggested, folding her arms.

            “No. I’ve put out feelers with some old contacts. He booked passage off of Omega before the attack. He also cleared out his private accounts before he left. He sold me out and ran,” Garrus’ silver eyes were crystal clear, full of fury.

            “Do you know where Sidonis is now?” Shepard inquired, noticing the look of determination in his eyes.

            “I’ve found a lead on him,” Garrus stepped toward the door, resuming his pacing. Shepard took a few steps and followed him until he stopped. “There’s a specialist on the Citadel, name’s Fade. He’s an expert at helping people disappear. Sidonis was seen with him.”

            “What are you planning to do when you find him?” Shepard’s brow furrowed, unsure that she liked Garrus’ tone.

            He turned to face her; they were standing close again and his eyes were icy fire as he looked down at her. “You humans have a saying, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. Well, Sidonies owes me ten lives, and I plan to collect.”

            “Are you sure that’s how you want to play it?” Shepard’s voice was quiet, firm. If this was what he wanted, she would help him achieve it. But it seemed a bit unlike him. Two years on Omega had changed him. Two years without me, she thought bitterly.

            “I’m sure. You don’t have to agree with me, but I’d like your help.” Garrus’ voice was just as firm, just as determined. They locked eyes for a moment, coming to a silent agreement.

            “Where do we find Fade?” she asked.


	7. An Eye for an Eye

            Garrus maneuvered the cab easily, swerving in and out of the other Citadel traffic as if it weren’t there. Shepard sat beside him, glancing occasionally to her left to check on her companion. The drell assassin, Thane, sat silently behind them. Shepard felt positive she and Garrus could handle this alone, but just in case Shepard had asked him to accompany them, since stealth would probably come in handy.

            The contact Garrus had arranged to meet had turned out to be a volus who was only an associate of Fade. It seemed Fade worried for his safety and anonymity and let someone else handle the meetings with new clients for him. After the three of them had brandished their weapons, the volus had quickly sold out the true identity of Fade, and it turned out Shepard and Garrus both knew him.

            “I always knew Harkin was a creep, but didn’t know he’d stoop to this,” Shepard observed. Garrus snorted.

            “I’m not all that surprised, really,” he replied sardonically. He began the cab’s descent, the warehouse where Harkin was supposed to be hiding with Blue Suns mercenaries in view. Once landed, Shepard, Thane, and Garrus all climbed out of the cab and checked their weapons. With a silent nod to each other, they all approached the warehouse.

            “There he is!” Shepard called out, spotting Harkin standing behind several Blue Suns near the door. At the sound Harkin spun around, and spotting Shepard and Garrus he yelled for the mercenaries to take them out before running into the warehouse.

            The three of them jumped behind cover, and exchanged fire with the mercenaries at the door. Blue Suns were meant to be fearsome opponents, but Shepard’s team made short work of them.

            “You can run, Harkin, but you can’t hide!” Garrus yelled as they entered the warehouse. The sound of footsteps running away from them was quickly masked by the sound of Blue Suns coordinating their strikes. Shepard and the others hid behind cover again, determined to get to Harkin, no matter how many mercenaries they had to cut down to do it.

            They fought their way through the warehouse until they reached a control room. The three of them checked the room, and then Garrus and Shepard made their way to the large window that overlooked the room beyond.

            “So Harkin’s finally gone completely bad,” Shepard commented.

            “He was always a pain in the ass,” Garrus replied. “But I’m in no mood for his games. If he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life.”

            “You seem to be getting tense, Garrus,” she observed, watching him warily.

            He looked over his shoulder at her. “Harkin may know why Sidonis wanted to disappear. If so, he knows why we’re here and I don’t want him tipping Sidonis off.”

            Shepard nodded. She could understand his logic. They silently looked over the room beyond the window, which was full of crates and machinery. Something seemed to move on the other side of the room. Garrus and Shepard drew their weapons and ducked below the window. “Did you see that?” Garrus asked her.

            “I saw something,” Shepard agreed.

            “He’s getting ready for us,” Garrus checked his gun. Beside them Thane did the same, stealthily trying to peer out of the window to see what had moved.

            “What are you going to do if Harkin won’t cooperate?” she pressed the Turian.

            “He’s a real criminal now. Working for the Blue Suns. I should just shoot him on sight. But I need him alive, so I won’t do any permanent damage. Just enough to loosen his tongue.”

            Shepard sighed. Was this my influence? she wondered. “You don’t need to hurt him to get what you want.”

            “Harkin’s a coward, he’ll talk before I can really hurt him,” Garrus gave a short laugh.

            “Are you still planning to kill Sidonis when we find him?” she couldn’t help herself, she had to keep pushing him. He seemed to be getting annoyed with her questions.

            “That’s the plan. It’ll be quick and painless. Unlike everyone he betrayed, he’ll be spared the agony of a slow death. It’s more than he deserves, but as long as he’s dead, I’ll be satisfied.”

            “Garrus, do you really think killing Sidonis will make things right?” she reasoned.

            “I know you don’t like it Shepard, but I have to do this.”

            “Is there no other way?”

            “Maybe. But this is personal.” He sounded more annoyed, but still firm in his convictions. Her questioning him hadn’t pushed him from his goal. “I’ll pull the trigger. And I’ll live with the consequences. All I’m asking you to do is help me find him.” He stared deep into her eyes, trying to emphasize his point. She could tell how much this meant to him, and she decided to let it rest for the moment.

            Thane motioned to them into the room ahead of them, pointing out more movement. “Let’s go find out what Harkin has in store, then,” Shepard said, gun at the ready.

            “Right behind you,” Garrus agreed.

            What was waiting for them turned out to be several more mercenaries, mechs, and even a YMIR mech. Garrus and Shepard continued to fight in their usual rhythm, the battle pattern so familiar to them now that enemies seemed to just lay down before them. Thane, a rather recent addition to the crew, was equally adept at battle but not as used to the others’ natural rhythm. There were a few hairy moments in the firefight, but Shepard threw up barriers when needed and blocked them from any serious damage. At the end of battle, the YMIR mech fell over and they charged up the platforms to another control room. Shepard had spotted Harkin in the window and knew that he had to be cornered now.

            Sure enough when they charged into the room, Harkin was trying desperately to resurrect any of the mechs to come defend him. Garrus had split off and headed to the other door, and Shepard and Thane entered the room, guns ready. Harkin looked up, trying to look triumphant. “You were close, but not close enough!” he yelled, turning to run out the opposite door. Instead, he ran into the butt of Garrus’ gun. He cried out and fell to the floor, holding his bleeding nose.

            Garrus picked him up roughly by the arm and slammed him against the wall. “So, Fade…couldn’t make yourself disappear, huh?”

            “Come on Garrus, we can work this out, whaddaya need?” Harkin sniveled.

            “I’m looking for someone,” Garrus released Harkin and let him slump against the wall.

            “Well, I guess we both have something the other one wants,” the small man jeered. Garrus punched him in the stomach in response, and he fell back onto the floor.

            “We didn’t come here to ask favors, Harkin,” Shepard snapped.

            “You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him.” Garrus demanded.

            “I might need a little more information than that,” Harkin sighed, rubbing his stomach.

            “His name was Sidonis. Turian, came from - ”

            “I know who he is, and I’m not telling you squat,” their opponent cut off, again finding his strength of resistance.

            “Harkin,” Shepard sighed, “This doesn’t have to be hard.”

            “Screw you, bitch,” Harkin spat, glowering at Shepard.

            Garrus lunged and kneed him in the gut, knocking him over once more. He looked wild, furious. Shepard wondered if it was frustration at his lack of cooperation or the insult to her. He hadn’t had that look in his eyes before Harkin had said it. “I don’t give out client information, it’s bad for business!” Harkin grunted. Garrus rolled him over with his foot easily and placed his large armored foot on the human’s throat.

            “Do you know what else is bad for business?” he drawled. “A broken neck.” He pushed down gradually on his opponent’s neck, and Harkin struggled against the weight, trying to claw the foot off of him but failing. Shepard stood for a moment, watching, and then decided that Harkin wouldn’t be any use to them if Garrus actually did break his neck. She reached out and tapped Garrus on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at her, and finally seemed to see reason; the wild look disappeared from his eyes as he removed his foot and took a step back.

            Harkin rolled onto his stomach, spluttering as he tried to regain his breath. He looked up, a scared look in his eyes. “Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?”

            Garrus paused. “No, but Sidonis…opened my eyes,” Garrus replied, and Shepard noticed a sad note in the tone of his voice, his sub harmonics resonating deeply. “Now arrange a meeting.” He jerked his head in the direction of the terminal in the room, and Harkin slowly got to his feet and headed toward it. He opened a comm. channel and arranged a meeting, telling Sidonis his new identity had been compromised. Garrus checked the ammo on his gun as he waited. Harkin told Sidonis that he was sending an agent to meet with him and fix his identity issue. When he was done, he turned back to face Garrus.

            “It’s all done, he wants to meet you in the Orbital Lounge, in an hour,” he scowled at the pair of them. “So if our business is done, I’ll be going…”

            Garrus grabbed him and pushed him against the wall, his gun pointed at his chin. “Let you go? No I don’t think so. You’re a criminal now, Harkin, I can’t just let you go.”

            “So you’re just going to kill me? That’s not your style, Garrus.” Harkin sounded scared again.

            “Kill you? No. But I don’t mind slowing you down a little,” Garrus stepped back from Harkin and pointed his gun at Harkin’s knee. Shepard watched, indecisive for a moment. But she stood back, allowing Garrus the shot. Harkin screamed as the bullet tore through his knee. Shepard grimaced as the blood began to flow. “Now C-Sec will have no trouble finding you,” Garrus said, holstering his gun and turning to leave. “Sidonis had better be there, or I’m coming back to finish the job.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Garrus landed the cab not far from their arranged meeting place. He sat for a moment, thinking. “Harkin’s a bloody menace, he deserved to be punished. We shouldn’t have just let him go.” He growled.

            “You were a little hard on him, Garrus,” Shepard pointed out. “I’m getting a little worried about you.”

            “You don’t think he deserved it?”

            “It’s just not like you,” Shepard reasoned. She was staring at him, brows furrowed.

            Garrus turned, his eyes whipping like blue fire. “What do you want from me, Shepard?” he snapped. He looked back out the driver-side window of the cab. “What would you do if someone betrayed you?”

            “I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t let it change me.”

            “I would’ve said the same thing before it happened to me.”

            “It’s not too late, you don’t have to go through with this,” Shepard appealed.

            “Who’s going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don’t? Nobody else knows what he’s done. Nobody else cares.” Garrus retorted. “I don’t see any other options.”

            Shepard thought for a moment. Sidonis had led to the deaths of Garrus’ men on Omega, a place without laws and courts. Even if she could persuade Sidonis to turn himself in, what good would it do? It’s not like they could extradite him, she thought cynically. Garrus needed this, and she saw no other way to provide justice. Again, she came to a decision. “All right, Garrus, I won’t mention it again.”

            “I appreciate that.” Garrus said. “I need to set up,” he began looking out the cab windows for vantage points. “I can get a clear shot from over there,” he pointed.

            “You just want me to get him into position?” she asked, checking out the scene as well.

            “Basically. Just keep him talking for a minute. When I’ve got him in my sights, I’ll let you know. Give me a signal when you’re ready and I’ll take the shot.”

            Shepard nodded and got out of the cab. Garrus took off as soon as she closed the door and flew up to his hiding place. She walked toward the Orbital Lounge, trying to act normal. After a few moments of scanning the crowd, she heard Garrus’ voice in her ear.

            _“Shepard, can you hear me?”_

            “Loud and clear.”

            _“All right, there he is. Bring him over and keep him talking,”_ Garrus directed. Shepard saw a Turian sitting by himself on a bench and caught his eye, motioning him over. He stood and approached her, looking over his shoulders as he did so.

            “Let’s get this over with,” Sidonis said once he reached her.

            _“You’re in my shot, Shepard,”_ Garrus said over the comms. She stepped slightly to the left, as though she was checking behind Sidonis to be sure the coast was clear.

            “Fade sent me, I’m here to smooth things over with your new identity,” Shepard lied. She crossed her arms. The thought of continuing to block Garrus’ shot and convincing Sidonis to turn himself in flitted across her mind, but she stuck to the decision she had reached in the car.

            _“I’ve got a clear shot,”_ Garrus whispered.

            “Quick, I need to get out of here, come on!” Sidonis demanded. “What’s the hold up?”

            Shepard smiled and casually held up a finger for Garrus to see. “Garrus Vakarian sends his regards, Sidonis,” she murmured. A look of mortal terror passed across Sidonis’ face, and he had barely turned to flee before a clear shot rang out and he fell to the floor, the shot hitting its mark dead on.

            _“Betrayal repaid, Sidonis,”_ Shepard heard Garrus whisper. She turned on the spot and quickly pushed her way through the gathering crowd. “Let’s get out of here,” she said softly over the comms.

            Garrus picked her up in the cab a few moments later, and as they took off she looked at him, trying to gauge his mood. “So, is this over?”

            “Yes,” he replied, then fell silent as he drove, and for a bit nothing but the sound of the cab reached her ears. “Thank you, Shepard,” he said finally, and gave her a smile.


	8. Suggestion

            When they returned to the Normandy, Shepard decided to give Garrus his space. But later that evening she went down to the battery like normal, to see if he was feeling any more at peace.

            “Hey,” she said when the doors had opened. “Got a minute?”

            He turned his back on the console. “Sure. Just killing time anyway.” He smiled. “I wanted to thank you again for your help with Sidonis. Whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers or whoever else comes after us, I know you’ll get the job done.”

            She moved to sit on the crates near the console, and chuckled as he spoke. “You actually think we’ll find something worse than the Collectors or Reapers?”

            He shrugged, “I like to expect the worst. There’s a small chance I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

            She smiled at him. “I couldn’t do this without you, Garrus,” she confessed. Goose bumps sprung up on her arms again as he continued to grin at her. She found herself wishing she’d had a drink before coming down to steady her nerves.

            “Oh sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course,” his laughter twanged and she held back a shiver. What was wrong with her tonight? She thought she’d gotten this under control, but he was smiling so easily and the hum of his sub harmonics sounded happy and relaxed. It was intoxicating. “It’s strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship. Your people don’t prepare for high risk operations the way Turians do.”

            “I thought you’d be used to high-risk operations on human ships. I mean, think about tracking Saren to Ilos.”

            “Sure, but that was quick. We raced out, landed, blew up some geth, and saved the galaxy,” he paced in front of where she sat. “This time we’ve got Miranda and Cerberus and that AI all telling us what we’re up against. I think I preferred blind optimism.”

            “Honestly, Garrus, what do you think our chances are?” she asked, genuinely curious.

            “Honestly? The Collectors killed you once, and all it did is piss you off. I can’t imagine they’ll stop you this time.” He resumed his pacing. “But an unmapped area, advanced technology, and the Collectors? We’re going to lose people. No way around that.” He stopped pacing and sighed. “Not a happy analysis, I know. Don’t worry, I won’t spread it around. And I’m with you, regardless.”

            She nodded absently, thinking again how true it was that she couldn’t do it without him. Knowing he had her back still meant the world to her. Her body was feeling warm, and so she decided to change the subject. “Do you ever regret leaving C-Sec or the Turian military?”

            “Not for a minute,” he emphasized by slashing his arm in the air in front of him. “When it comes down to it, Shepard, I don’t think I’m a very good Turian. When a good Turian hears a bad order, he follows it. He might complain, but he knows his place. I just don’t see the point in staying quiet and polite. Not when the galaxy is at stake.”

            Shepard chuckled. “You and me both,” she agreed. “So I’m curious, how do Turian crews get ready for high-risk missions?”

            “With violence, usually,” he folded his arms before him. “Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance, but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise, combat sims, even full-contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress.”

            “You mean Turian ships have crew members fighting each other before a mission?” Shepard was surprised by the notion.

            “It’s supervised, of course,” he reassured her. “Nobody is going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it’s a good way to settle grudges amicably.” He chuckled a bit and resumed his pacing. “I remember right before one mission, we were about to hit a Batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other’s throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring.”

            “I assume you took her down gently?” she raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

            “Actually, she and I were the top-ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach but she had flexibility. It was brutal. After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room. We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters,” he cleared his throat a little. “I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess.”

            Shepard looked at her hands for a moment. She saw an opportunity, and before she could think twice about it, she chuckled and said, “You know, it sounds like you’re carrying some tension. Maybe I could help you get rid of it.” She stood and approached him, her heart racing at the risk she was taking.

            “I, ah, didn’t think you felt like sparring, Commander,” he sounded taken aback. She noticed the change in address too.

            “What if we skipped right to the tiebreaker? We could test your reach and…my flexibility,” her voice sounded sultry but mentally she cringed. What kind of a line was that? She thought. She was standing close to him now, and could see the slight shock registering on his face.

            “Oh! I didn’t…Huh.” He stared down at her for a moment, his expression incomprehensible. “Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.” She smirked suggestively at him, and his eyes lit up. He took a few steps back and paced a little again, thinking. “Well, why the hell not? There’s nobody in this galaxy I respect more than you. And if we can figure out a way to make it work, then…yeah, definitely.” His voice held a note of excitement. He spun back to face her, and she saw a spark in his eyes.

            She stopped her internal cringing and second guessing, realizing that he had just said yes and meant it. She took a few steps toward him, and she smiled as he stared down at her, surprise still in his eyes. “Well then…At least we have that to look forward to,” she murmured, her voice low. Deciding it was best not to linger in case he thought she meant right this second, she swept past him and exited through the battery’s doors, leaving him to stare after her.

 

* * *

 

 

            Shepard again found herself staring at her terminal in her cabin, but this time she had actually followed through on the extranet search she had been contemplating for weeks. Now the unfortunate problem was the lack of informative vids; the vast majority seemed to focus on Turians who had a human dominating fetish. There were a lot of vids imagining if the Turians had enslaved human females during the First Contact War, or after if they had hypothetically won and taken them as the spoils of war. She clicked one and skipped through the contrived dialogue, trying to fast forward to the action so she could get an idea of how things would work. Unfortunately, again, this particular vid seemed more about the bondage aspect, and once they actually started having sex she realized this vid fell into the same problem human pornography did as well. There was no way regular people actually had sex like this.

            “Commander, do you have a minute?” She heard a male voice call out, and she jumped in her seat and tried to click the windows closed on her terminal. Spinning around, she saw a shocked Joker standing behind her.

            “Joker! Don’t you knock?” Shepard scolded, feeling her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

            “I’m sorry, Commander, I asked EDI and she said you were just looking things up on the extranet and weren’t busy. I – was that,” Joker was starting to laugh. “Commander, were you watching First Contact porn?”

            Shepard groaned, thoroughly mortified. She stood and walked over to the bottle of whiskey she had brought up to have a night cap alone after deciding she couldn’t trust herself to drink with Garrus tonight. She poured herself a glass and downed it in one gulp. Joker continued chuckling and watching her.

            “I mean, Commander, I’m not judging, I just didn’t think you were the type,” he limped down the two steps in her cabin and took a seat on the sofa. She shot him a glare and poured herself another drink. “But if you were in the market for that, you should have asked. I have some that are way better than that amateur garbage.”

            Shepard continued to glare at him, but then took a thoughtful sip. She did find herself in need of a better vid or two, but Joker was also a notorious blabbermouth. “Joker,” she said finally, trying to discreetly make her request. “Would you keep it just between us? I need them for, ah, research.”

            She instantly realized her mistake as a look of dawning crossed her pilot’s features and he burst out laughing. Again she downed her drink in one gulp and poured a third as he continued to laugh as though it was the best joke he had ever heard. “Wait, wait, wait, Commander, don’t tell me,” he tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “You and – and Garrus? Are you two…”

            The secret was out and she resigned herself to having this conversation. She slumped onto the sofa beside him and sighed as he tried to do his best to collect himself. After a moment in which her cheeks continued burning and Joker’s laughter quieted slightly, she replied, “We might be. Or we want to. Or, well,” she took a gulp of her drink, “we’ve talked about it.”

            Joker was finally attempting to be serious as he pretended to think hard, his fingers on his chin. “Hmmm, yeah you know I actually like you two together,” he gave her a sideways glance. “You both tend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

            “Joker, if you didn’t have brittle bones I would punch you right now,” Shepard growled.

            “All right, all right,” he held up his hands defensively. “But in all seriousness, Commander, I think I can help you.”

            She looked at him over her glass. “How so?”

            “Well, I can’t really get out and about as much as I’d like, so I spend a lot of hours researching stuff on the extranet,” he began. He folded his arms carefully, thinking. “I got curious about how each of the different species have sex, and whether or not they’re similar to humans. There’s actually some great resources out there, but they’re definitely not with the porn. Most of them are actually Asari made, seeing as they mate with everyone. But they’re also really accepting of the other races all trying to do the cross-species tango, and so they compiled some vids and information. I’ll send some to you,” he looked at her, still politely attempting to hide his smirk.

            “Thanks, Joker. And please,” she glared at him to emphasize her words, “Don’t tell anyone.”

            “But you’re such a cute couple, I want people to know!”

            “Hey, you owe me, remember?” Shepard raised an eyebrow, realizing she had an ace in the hole. “I died for you, if I recall correctly.”

            “All right, fair point,” Joker admitted defeat. “So…when did this happen with you and Garrus? I mean, what’s going on?”

            Shepard shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I mean nothing concrete has happened yet, we just talked about…sex, to relieve some stress.”

            “Oh come on, Commander!” Joker sounded incredulous. “You two are joined at the hip. This won’t just be stress relief for you.”

            Deflecting his observation, Shepard finished her drink and stood up, stretching. “Was there a reason you came to my cabin at this hour, _Jeff_ , or did you just feel like trying to get some blackmail material on me?”

            “Oh, all right, I’ll drop it,” Joker flinched at her use of his first name. “Actually I wanted to talk about the ship and EDI some…”


	9. Friendly Chats

            It had been a week since their talk when she finally went to the mess hall for a drink and saw Garrus pass by on his way to the battery. Outside of their recent recruitment missions, she hadn’t seen him alone since they had spoken. “Shepard!” he said, smiling when he saw her. “Want to join me for a drink in the battery?”

            “Of course,” she said, her heart racing a little. She worried that he had been avoiding her and wanted to speak privately to let her down gently. Trying to quell her doubt, she followed him into the battery with the glasses she already held in her hands. She had meant to ask him to join her, but now that the invitation was reversed she felt nervous.

            Once inside the battery, he made sure the doors were closed and then turned to face her. “Something up?” she asked.

            “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about what we talked about. Blowing off steam, easing tension,” he sounded thoughtful. “I never considered cross-species intercourse. And damn, saying it that way doesn’t help. Now I feel dirty and clinical,” he looked away from her, embarrassed and endearingly awkward. She couldn’t help but smile at him, trying to reassure him. He began his usual pacing in front of her. “Are we crazy to even be thinking about this? I’m not…Look, Shepard. I know you can find something a little closer to home.”

            So that was it. He thought she really only did want some stress relief. But she thought about it, and realized that she didn’t want anyone else. Not even a little bit. “I don’t want something closer to home. I want you,” she stepped closer to him and stared up into his eyes. “I want someone I can trust.”

            He nodded and smiled at her, reassured. “I can do that. I’ll find some music…and do some research to figure out how this thing should work.” She continued smiling, refraining from telling him about the research she had been doing every night in her cabin, thanks to the vids Joker had sent to her. She could tell Garrus about those later. “It’ll either be a night to treasure, or a horrible interspecies-awkwardness thing.” He cleared his throat and she chuckled. “In which case, fighting the Collectors will be a welcome distraction. So, you know, a win either way.”

            Shepard frowned, recognizing his nervousness. He seemed really discomfited, and suddenly she worried that she’d pushed him too far. “You know, Garrus, if you’re not comfortable with this, it’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you.” She set down the glasses she held and reached out a hand to his shoulder, staring into his eyes and smiling slightly. She would do anything to make sure he felt comfortable, even if it meant delaying or just being friends. That thought pained her, though.

            “Shepard, you’re about the only friend I’ve got left in this screwed up galaxy,” he shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pretend I’ve got a fetish for humans…but this isn’t about that. This is about us.” He looked over her body as he said it, before meeting her eyes to show his intent, and she smiled. That was how she felt as well, and hearing him say it was encouraging. “You don’t ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes…but never uncomfortable.”

            Shepard lowered her arm and picked their glasses back up, passing his to him. She was happy to know that this hadn’t been him letting her down gently. “So when should I book the room?” she half-teased.

            “I’d wait, if you’re okay with it. Disrupt the crew as little as possible…and take that last chance to find some calm just before the storm.” He took a sip from his drink. “You know me, I always like to savor the last shot before popping the heat sink.” She nearly choked on her drink. He stared down at his own for a moment, a look of horrible realization on his face. “Wait. That metaphor just went somewhere horrible.”

            She smiled at him, his embarrassment all the more charming to her. She realized that maybe she should leave him to his work, since he had become increasingly nervous as the conversation had progressed. She worried a little too that she was overly eager to compare her new research to personal experience here in the battery, and so she said, “Well, I should let you get back to work.”

            “Riiiight. ‘Cause I’m in a great place to optimize firing algorithms right now,” he mused, swirling his drink as he watched her back away from him. She noticed he was taking in her curves more than he used to, and she wondered if he had already been doing his own research. She smiled at him and the battery doors closed, blocking them from each other’s view.

 

* * *

 

 

            Tali was finally back on board, and Shepard was incredibly happy to have another trusted teammate on her side. She was starting to feel more comfortable with her new recruits, but it still couldn’t compare to the depth of camaraderie she felt for her old crew. She especially kept her distance from the Cerberus crew, although even Miranda was beginning to grow on her. For her part she had apologized for her initial doubt at Shepard’s worth and effectiveness, and was increasingly becoming a steadfast member of the Commander’s team. Standing by her to rescue her sister on Illium had certainly seemed to cement her loyalty to Shepard, and she was even beginning to question Cerberus’ methods on occasion.

            The other teammates were easier to get along with than the ones from Cerberus. Shepard enjoyed her quiet talks with Samara, the Asari justicar, and Thane seemed to seek her out for talks more than the others. If he weren’t so reserved during most of their talks, she would almost think he was infatuated with her. He had started to call her ‘siha’ after she helped him rescue his son from following in his criminal footsteps, and she had so far avoided asking him why he called her that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to encourage him further if he did have feelings for her.

            She made her way down to engineering, where Tali had gone to check on the Normandy’s engines. The doors opened and she saw the thin, fully covered form of her dear Quarian friend. Tali looked over her shoulder at her approach, and finished up her work on the console. “Shepard, it’s good to be back,” she said.

            “It’s good to have you back, Tali,” Shepard agreed. It felt right, standing down in engineering talking like they used to. Tali led her to the engine core and pointed out some interesting additions, clearly in awe of the new design.

            “I know you were upset that I’m working with Cerberus,” Shepard stated during a lull in their conversation.

            “They came after my people, Shepard, surely it was understandable,” Tali pointed out. Shepard nodded. “But I know that wasn’t you, and I know that’s not something you would ever do. I’m still hesitant, but…I trust you.”

            Shepard smiled at her. “Thank you, Tali. I promise it’s not misplaced.”

            “Well, even if it were, you have Garrus and I to keep you in check now,” the Quarian teased. “How is Garrus? I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him yet.”

            “He’s good, he’s…tougher than he was,” Shepard confided. “Being on Omega was a rough experience for him. He came out a little worse for wear, I think.”

            “Not just being on Omega, I think,” Tali mused. Shepard looked at her, eyebrows raised. “I guess he wouldn’t tell you himself, Shepard, but he took your death very hard.”

            Shepard leaned against the console, her arms folded. “What do you mean?”

            Tali absently tapped her fingers on the same console, thinking. “He and I tried to stay in contact when he returned to C-Sec and I went back to the Fleet, after we defeated Saren. If you remember I sent you messages, too, until…” Her voice trailed off. She gazed over the engine core, silent for a moment. “It was hard on all of us, hearing that you had died, knowing that we weren’t there. But Garrus, he seemed to take it the worst of everyone. I got one last message from him after weeks of silence. He sounded terrible, and I was worried he may try and harm himself. I couldn’t go see him, though, my place was with the Fleet.”

            Shepard hugged her arms a bit tighter together against her chest, staring at the floor as she absorbed what her friend was telling her. “What did he say he was going to do?”

            “He almost made it sound like he wanted to go down fighting on Omega. I think he expected to,” Tali revealed. “I didn’t hear from him again, and I’ll be honest, I thought maybe he had.” She finally raised her helmeted head toward the Commander. “I think he cared about you more than even he realized. And when he realized it, you were dead.”

            Shepard swallowed hard. She had known there was something behind his eyes when she had found him on Omega, and now she knew what it was. He really had been making his last stand on that bridge, and seeing Shepard alive, standing in front of him must have turned his world upside down. He had meant to go down fighting, and yet suddenly his reason for wanting to was gone. Her throat tightened, and silence passed between the friends as she mulled over what Tali had confessed to her. “I had no idea,” she finally commented.

            “I’m sure he’s better now that he’s back, fighting beside you again,” Tali patted the Commander’s arm. “But I thought you should know my suspicions. Am I wrong in thinking-” she stopped, and Shepard could feel the unspoken inquiry hanging in the air between them.

            “I care about him,” Shepard stated, her voice soft. At that moment all she wanted was to go make sure he knew how much.

            Tali giggled. “I thought so. There seemed to be something between you when you came and got me.”

            Shepard smiled. “It’s all new and no one knows. I’m not sure we even really know what’s going on,” she admitted.

            “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Tali held up a hand in a jesting oath, and Shepard chuckled.

            It really was great to have friends back.

 

* * *

 

 

            The battery door opened and Shepard walked in briskly, hastier in all of her movements than she meant to be. What she had just discovered from Tali had spurred her to seek Garrus out, but she didn’t even know what she wanted to say. She just knew she had to see him, to reassure herself that he was better and to reassure him that she didn’t plan on going anywhere again.

            He was standing on the side of the battery, leaning against the railing, his omni-tool open. He was reading something intently, and didn’t look up right away when she entered. She marched up to him, standing before him and looking into his face with careful concern in her furrowed brows. He glanced up at her finally, closing his omni-tool and smiling until he saw the look on her face. “Is everything all right, Shepard?” he asked, his eye plates lowering and mirroring her frown.

            She opened her mouth to speak, but found that she couldn’t. She felt overwhelmed by the desire to hug him, or kiss him, or anything to make sure he knew how much he mattered to her. Paralyzed by indecision and the knowledge of his past despair, she stood for a moment just staring into his crystal blue eyes. And then she looked over her shoulder to check that the doors had closed behind her. They had. She faced him again and stood on her tip toes, trying to get her face closer to his. He was watching her avidly, trying to discern what she was thinking.

            At the last moment she panicked, and instead of kissing him she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers to bridge their height difference. She pressed her cheek against his scarred mandibles, which she felt flutter slightly at the contact. He hesitated, and then his long arms engulfed her. He straightened, picking her up as he did so. Garrus held her in his strong embrace, her feet dangling against his armored shins. She took deep breaths, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her, despite the hard armor covering them. This was real, this feeling of him holding her. After months of being back from the dead, she finally felt vividly alive.

            She turned her face against his and lightly pressed her lips against his scars. His mandibles fluttered again and he made a small humming noise, his arms squeezing her tightly before he lowered her to the ground. She pulled her arms away from his neck, and he slid his so that his hands rested on her waist, still bent over so that he could more easily look into her eyes. He was searching her face, still trying to figure out what was going on. “Shepard?” he finally spoke, his voice emphasized by a lower register of sub harmonics she hadn’t heard before, and she shivered violently in response to the sound.

            “I-” she bit her lip, trying to steady herself. “I just spoke with Tali, and she…she told me about the message you sent her before you headed to Omega.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she was overcome by a vast mixture of emotions. Her care, concern, and sadness for the pain he had experienced were now clashing with the desires that were stirred up by the deeper tone of his voice and the feeling of his hands on her waist. She felt her heart racing and her vision blurred behind the threat of tears.

            Garrus’ hands tightened on her waist, and he didn’t pull away at her confession. He was looking into her eyes, and she realized he was examining the unshed tears. Did Turians cry? Did he know that she was about to on his behalf? He seemed unable to speak for a moment, just continuing to stare into her face, witnessing this rare vulnerability that he had never seen in his Commander before.

            Roughly he pulled her back against him, his arms encircling her once more as he held her. She pressed her cheek against his cool armor, trying to fight the worried sadness that threatened to overwhelm her. What if she didn’t make it in her fight against the Collectors, or the Reapers? What would happen to him? She couldn’t bear the thought of him throwing his life away.

            “Shepard,” he murmured, that new tone of his voice more pronounced than before. “I’ll admit, that was not one of my proudest moments.” He released her a little and she stepped back so she could peer up into his face. “I was hurting, more than I ever meant to let on. I hadn’t quite realized before that how…” he trailed off, and he brought a hand up to run through her hair. He seemed distracted for a moment by the soft feeling of the dark red strands, and his eyes looked soft as he returned his gaze to hers.

            She smiled at him, knowing he had almost admitted what she had assumed to be true. “Garrus, I’m so sorry,” she told him, rubbing her cheek against the hand tangled in her hair.

            “You have nothing to apologize for,” he stated firmly. He was still playing with her hair, and gradually her feelings of concern were dissipating, being steadily replaced by a racing heart and goose bumps popping up on her skin once more. He looked down from her hair to her shoulder, inspecting the goose bumps, an interesting, indecipherable look on his face. She needed to break the tension, or this was going to get out of hand for both of them. She cleared her throat, laughing a little as she joked, “Nice to know that Turians hug.”

            His eyes moved over her face and the look in his eyes was so intense her breath caught in her throat. He seemed to snap out of it after a brief pause and he finally released her, taking two steps back and giving a short hum of laughter. “On occasion, but only between bonded couples and family, really. We Turians are tight with our affection.” She stared at him in wonder, realizing how important it had been that he had just shown that level of affection to her.

            “Listen, Garrus, you’ve been through a lot, I’ll understand if you don’t want to - ”

            “What? No, Shepard,” he cut her off decisively. “I definitely want to. I mean, a part of me still thinks we’re crazy for even considering…blowing off steam.” He turned that same intense look on her. “But I want to try it with you. I want a few moments that are just for us, before we throw ourselves into hell for the good of the galaxy.”

            “I want that too, Garrus,” she agreed quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips.

            He smiled broadly. “Glad to hear it. I’ll do some more, ah I mean, I’ll do some research and figure out how to…you know.” He stopped, once more his awkward self, the intense look mostly disappeared from his eyes. “Okay, that sounded bad.”

            She gave a small giggle and he turned away from her, embarrassed. “Garrus,” she said quietly. He turned his head, listening to her over his shoulder but not turning to face her completely. She wanted to apologize once more for his pain, but knew that she shouldn’t. Instead she said softly, “I’m glad you made it off Omega.”

            He held still for a moment, absorbing her words. “Me too, Shepard.”

            “It’s Fiona,” she said suddenly. He finally turned his torso so he could see her better. She hadn’t meant to say it so forcefully, and she gave a small sigh. “My name, my first name…It’s Fiona. You can call me that, if you’d like. You don’t have to be so formal with me, after all.”

            Garrus watched her for a moment. “I’ve known your name this whole time,” he smirked. “Fiona,” he purred. The sound of him saying her name sent a strong shiver down her spine, and she jerkily nodded her head before turning and racing out of the door. He still sounded like he needed more time, and she was beginning to find it hard not to proposition him to join her in her cabin every time she saw him.

 

* * *

 

 

            As she headed to the elevator, she saw Mordin walking toward her down the hall. “Hello, Mordin,” she called, trying to sound cheerful as she attempted to steady her nerves, and the Salarian nodded as he reached her.

            “Commander, do you have a minute? Would like to discuss a private matter with you,” he stopped before her, waiting. She nodded and gestured to the elevator. He boarded with her and took the ride up to the cabin.

            “What’s on your mind?” she asked as they entered her quarters.

            Mordin folded his arms and contemplated her for a moment. “Aware that mission is dangerous. Different species react differently to stress. Sexual activity normal stress relief for humans and Turians. Still recommend caution. Warn of chafing.” He nodded to emphasize his point.

            Shepard stared at him in disbelief for a second, and then folded her arms. “I intend to be careful, Doctor, but Garrus is important to me. You’re not going to scare me off,” she said.

            He shook his head, implying she had misinterpreted. “Of course. Hormones. Regardless, come see me later. May need analgesic. Chafing.”

            “So do you have a recommendation as a doctor?” Shepard asked. She had been learning from the vids, but an actual medical opinion couldn’t hurt.

            “Turians based on dextro-amino acids. Human ingestion of tissue could provoke allergic reactions. Anaphylactic shock possible. So don’t, ah,” he coughed lightly, “ingest. Also forwarding advice booklet to your quarters. Valuable diagrams, positions comfortable for both species, erogenous zone overviews. Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Gave EDI electronic relationship aid demonstration vids to use as necessary.”

            Shepard’s eyes widened as she watched him punching in directions to his omni-tool, and she did her best not to laugh. “Wait a minute, Mordin, you’re just yanking me around, aren’t you?”

            He jokingly held a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Shocking suggestion! Doctor-patient confidentiality a sacred trust. Would never dream of mockery.” He smiled at her. “Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard. I will be in lab, studying cell reproduction. Much simpler. Less alcohol and mood music required.”

            He turned to leave her cabin, but she called him back. “Mordin, how did you know? Has Garrus spoken with you?”

            “Doctor-patient confidentiality, Shepard. But will say, can smell pheromones. Both of you, on missions, in armory, in mess hall for evening drinks, smell like teenagers.” He faced her and contemplated again for a split second. “As friend, not as doctor, must say. You seem evenly matched. Equal. I wish you both joy. But also do strongly recommend analgesic. Chafing incredibly likely.” And with that he left her cabin, humming a ditty to himself.

            She stared after him, absorbing what he had said about pheromones. Who else could smell it? She recalled seeing that Turians also had acute senses of smell, and she experienced a moment of shock when she realized Garrus had maybe been able to smell her pheromones for a long time now. Which made her wonder how long he had known, how many nights they had sat talking, her trying not to show her attraction but him knowing all the while just because of how she smelled.


	10. Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect you guys to be so excited I was posting this so...here you go.
> 
> xx,  
> L

            “Joker, you need to slow down – what do you mean they took the crew? Who did? What happened?” Shepard sat in the shuttle, her hand raised to tell the rest of her team to be silent as she tried to listen to Joker’s frantic voice over the comms. The last few days had been incredibly tense and had flown by in a whirlwind. Shepard was so exhausted she almost worried that she had imagined what Joker had been trying to tell her.

           After finding a derelict Reaper and acquiring its IFF, which would get them through the Omega-4 Relay undetected, the team had gotten distracted by the enigma of a Geth who had saved her squad during the Reaper mission and knew Shepard by name. The Geth, Legion, was now sitting beside her in the shuttle, as was the rest of her squad. Her decision to activate him and accept his help had ruffled some feathers on the crew, but he was proving himself a valuable asset, with plenty of information on the Reapers and their relationship to the Geth. But now Joker said…

            “Joker, please, calm down and repeat yourself,” Shepard commanded. The rest of the team was staring at her, wide eyed and hardly seeming to breathe.

            “I’m sorry, Commander, I couldn’t do anything to stop them. There was a homing signal in that Reaper IFF…it tried to shut down EDI and they tracked the ship. Everyone is gone…” his voice cracked. “Everyone except for me. EDI helped me, she,” he paused here, taking a breath, “EDI had me remove her constraints. She regained control of the ship.”

            “I was able to escape with Mr. Moreau on the ship,” EDI chimed in.

            “Wait, you removed her constraints?” Miranda cut in sharply. Shepard shot her a silencing glare.

            “I had to Commander. The Collectors, they were…” Again he couldn’t continue.

            “God damn it,” Shepard muttered. She rubbed her fingers against her forehead, thinking desperately. “Turn the shuttle around. We need to get to the ship. Those bastards took my crew. We have to get them back.”

 

* * *

 

            Shepard and her team exited the shuttle and looked around the ship. It was eerily silent, reminding the Commander of the colony on Horizon. She felt fury building inside of her, and she felt an urge to shoot anything near her. Taking several deep breaths, she turned to her team. “This is going to be it. I am going to instruct Joker to take us to the Omega-4 Relay, and honestly,” she took a deep breath. “I can’t guarantee that we’re all going to make it through the mission alive. But those assholes took our friends, our colleagues, and far too many colonists. The time to act is now.” She saw several of her comrades nod their heads, Jacob and Miranda included. She looked at Garrus, his eyes fixed on her, his face tensed. “The trip to the relay will take some time. Spend it how you wish. Upon arrival, we’ll convene and decide from there. Dismissed.”

            Her heart was pounding as she turned on her heel and led the way to the elevator. This could be it, she thought. Somehow, this time, she felt a little more terrified of death than when she had actually died. Maybe this time she felt she had more to lose; the Reapers were still too big a threat, and she had too many people relying on her to stop them. She headed up to her cabin, instructing EDI and Joker to head to the Omega-4 Relay as she stepped onto the elevator.

 

            Shepard stripped out of her armor and found herself in need of the hot steam of the shower to calm her nerves. She turned it all the way hot as was her habit, and stood under the stream, allowing it to scald her skin and ease the tension in her muscles. She knew now was her chance to seek out Garrus, but she couldn’t tell if it was nerves or something else that made her wait.

            She stopped her shower and dried herself off, dressing herself in a white tank top and some of her many pairs of small exercise shorts. She towel dried her hair and then stepped out of the bathroom toward her intercom. Maybe she’d invite Garrus up, now that she felt relaxed.

            A shape to her left caught her eye and she spun, alarmed, but saw that it was Garrus standing just inside the door. He was wearing civilian clothes, and she realized it was the first time she had ever seen him out of his armor. His green and blue tunic wasn’t nearly as bulky as his armor, and for the first time she could see just how narrow his waist was. His cowl wasn’t as large as the armor that normally covered it, and his legs looked much bonier than they did in his armor. He was holding a bottle of champagne and looked a bit stunned to find her just coming out of the shower. Reassuringly she smiled and put her hands on her hips, waiting expectantly for him to say something.

            “Hey. I brought wine. Best I could afford on a vigilante’s salary,” he held up the bottle in a modest offer, and then walked swiftly to her stereo and turned it on. Club music began to play and he cringed, then tried to pass it off as a debonair move and turned to face her, holding out his arms. “If you were a Turian, I’d be complimenting your waist or your fringe. So your, uh…hair looks nice, and your waist is…very supportive.”

            Shepard smirked. He seemed so out of his element, and yet all she wanted was exactly this, awkward hesitation and all.

            “Hopefully that’s not offensive in human culture. Crap. I knew I should have watched more vids…Throw me a line here, Shepard, I-” he implored her.

            “Woah, consider me seduced, smooth talker,” she interrupted, walking toward him and reaching for the bottle of champagne. She took it from his hands and set it on her desk, and then reached over to turn off the stereo. “Now shut up and stop worrying.”

            “I just…I’ve seen so many things go wrong, Shepard. My work at C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis…” He sighed, and she stepped closer to him. “I want something to go right. Just once. Just…”

            The tone of his voice tugged at her heartstrings, and she stepped even closer to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes, which regarded her pleadingly. He leaned his forehead down to hers, and she reached up to meet it, her other hand reaching up to his other shoulder. His hands lifted to her shoulders, and he held them tightly in his hands. For a moment they stood there, foreheads pressed to each other. Suddenly he pulled away, looking taken aback. “I’m so sorry, Shepard, I should have asked permission before I…”

            She raised a brow at him, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?”

            “I – I should have asked before I kissed you,” Garrus said, then his eye plates furrowed as he saw the puzzled look on her face.

            “Kissed me?” she queried. And then she realized that none of the vids she had watched had featured any sort of kissing. He chuckled a bit, one hand rubbing his forehead in amusement.

            “And here I was worried I’d embarrass myself,” he muttered. “Sorry, Shepard, what we just did, our foreheads,” he gestured at her, “that’s how Turians, well, kiss.”

            “Oh!” Shepard exclaimed. She felt her cheeks flush a bit, realizing they had just crossed into intimacy and she hadn’t realized it. “I, um…I should have watched some simpler vids,” she mused. He looked at her for a moment and then began to laugh. She joined him, and just like that they were back at ease with each other. “I just mean the ones I watched didn’t feature, um…kissing.”

            Garrus’ eyes sparkled with mirth. “Remind me to ask you more about that later,” he teased. Her cheeks grew warm again at the suggestion.

            “Did you see how humans kiss?” she questioned, curious what sort of research he had done in his spare time.

            “I saw a vid and realized I had seen that sort of behavior between humans before. It seems…messy to me, to be honest,” he confessed.

            Shepard gave a suggestive smile. “Want to see what all the fuss is about?”

            His eyes widened for a second, and then he nodded his consent. She stepped toward him and placed her hands on his chest, standing on her tip toes to reach his face. He graciously lowered himself down to her a bit, his hands hesitantly finding their resting place on her lower back. She gently pressed her lips against his mouth plates, which felt a little rough against her plump lips but the feeling was not at all repugnant. Garrus made the same soft humming noise he had when she had kissed his cheek, and his hands tightened on her back. She moved her lips gently against his mouth and felt a small flexing underneath hers that she interpreted as him returning her soft pressure. She parted her lips and lightly ran her tongue against his mouth. His reaction was immediate, his talons biting into her back as he gripped her tighter to him. She fought back a smile as she tried to coax his tongue out of his mouth. He picked up her hint and clumsily met her tongue with his outside of their mouths. It was far sloppier than kissing another human, but Shepard found herself enjoying it just as much if not more.

            After a moment of fumbling he seemed to fall into rhythm with her, and their tongues slid against each other, tasting one another as they wrestled playfully. His talons continued to bite into her back, and the sensation was sending shivers up and down her spine. They swooned slightly where they stood, and with a sudden gasp pulled away from each other. Their eyes feasted on each other’s face hungrily, all of their sexual tension finally built up and yearning for release. Shepard found herself trying to take deeper breaths but all she could manage were gasps of air that did little to hide how much she wanted to continue.

            “Do you need some wine?” she asked breathlessly, wondering if they were going too quickly for him. He glanced at the wine and back at her, confusion etched in his features. He wavered, and almost looked hurt.

            “If we’re moving too fast, Shepard,” he began, but her small laugh made him pause.

            “I was worried we were moving too fast for you,” she admitted. He stepped closer to her, his hands once again moving behind her to press her to him. “And it’s Fiona.”

            He smiled lazily at her as his fingers slipped beneath the bottom of her tank top. He moved his fingers over the skin of her back, his touch as light as that of a feather. She caught her breath and stared up at him, and her heart sped up as she felt goose bumps spring up over her skin in response to his careful caresses. She was amazed to see a look of triumph spread across his face as he watched her skin tighten as the bumps spread.

            “What?” she whispered, her voice coming out hoarsely.

            “You have goose bumps, Fiona” he pointed out. She raised an eyebrow in question, and he continued his soft strokes across her skin as he smiled down at her. “That first night, on the observation deck, I asked if you were cold after you shivered. You said you weren’t. I had never seen goose bumps before, and so later I looked them up to figure out why you had them.” His eyes gleamed as he slowly began to lift her tank top further up on her torso. “Being cold was the main cause, but then I found articles saying that some humans experience them on their skin when they’re sexually excited. So I started paying attention. And I noticed that you only got them around me.” There was a growl of pride in his voice, and he was still smiling at her with deep satisfaction.

            As he finished his statement, he pulled her tank top gingerly over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and he leaned back a bit so that he could take in the view of her naked torso before him. Her breasts were taut, her nipples hard due to her excitement. He stared in wonder and moved his hands to her breasts, his palms warm on her skin as he gently kneaded her. She felt her knees going weak; he was being gentler than she had ever imagined he could be. She hadn’t even known that was what she wanted from him, but as he continued his gentle massages she felt herself giving in. Her eyelids fluttered and a soft moan began in her throat. He lowered his face again and pressed his mouth to hers, his hands continuing their caresses on her breasts.

            Shepard’s arms snaked up to his neck, clinging to him as she began to tremble, her breath coming in deep sighs and gasps. Their tongues resumed their sloppy wrestling, and again she found a moan escaping her lips. His hands slowly slipped from her breasts, lower, until he cupped her lightly-clad rear in his hands. He pulled her roughly against him, holding her for a long moment as he ran his tongue down the column of her throat. She felt her knees shake, her hands rubbing his neck absently, just needing to feel his skin under her fingertips.

            He lifted her easily in one fluid motion, spreading her legs to fit on either side of him, and carried her down the few steps further into her cabin to lay her gently on the bed. He propped himself above her, one hand on either side of her as he reached his mouth down to press against hers to resume their kiss. She tightened her legs around him, pulling his hips down to hers. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed by her need to have him press her down into the mattress, her need to have him fill her.

            Garrus pulled gently away from her, untangling himself from her legs. She lay still, trying to regain her senses as she watched him standing at the foot of the bed. He began removing his clothes, and she propped herself on her elbows to watch him and satisfy her curiosity. Finally naked, he stood for a moment staring down at her, and her eyes moved greedily over his body, taking it all in. His lower plates, which protected his reproductive organs when not excited, had already parted and she could see him hard and ready for her. She felt her breath catch in her throat; it was much larger than her largest human lover’s had been, and was the prettiest shade of blue, like the sea on a rainy day. It had some ridges along it, and looked slick as if it was already lubricated. Besides its rather intimidating size, the sight of it set her heart racing even faster and she felt an ache begin low in her stomach. She needed him.

            Her knees were trembling as he knelt once more on the bed, his hands resting gently on her knees. He watched her shaking and concern showed in his clear eyes. “Fiona, are you all right?”

            She nodded, unable to speak right away. “You’re so…beautiful,” she said when she finally found her voice. He raised his eye plates skeptically at her choice of words and chuckled.

            Garrus slowly slid his hands down her thighs, making her knees shiver harder as he gripped the waistband of her shorts and began to tug them off. Shepard helped him by pulling her legs into her chest, and he haphazardly threw the shorts over his shoulder onto the floor. He brought her legs back toward him, resting her feet gently on the bed on either side of his knees. He rested his palms on her kneecaps and gently eased them apart, giving him an unobstructed view between her legs. For several moments, he just stared down at her, his expression imperceptible. But watching him explore her most intimate parts so casually, so blatantly, made her heart race, and she could feel herself getting wetter as the moments passed.

            He seemed to notice her excitement, because he finally reached down to her with one finger to touch between her folds. Her breath caught at the contact and he glanced up to make sure he hadn’t hurt her. She nodded encouragingly at him and he continued his gentle explorations. He brushed her clit with his knuckle and she moaned deeply at the contact. His mandibles flexed excitedly and he did it several more times. Her back arched ever so slightly as she felt pleasure tingle throughout her body, and he smiled to himself. He slid his finger down lower and found her opening, gently tracing it with his large fingertip before carefully inserting it into her. Her knees spread more as she felt his finger push deep inside her, and she tried to open herself as far as she could to encourage him to keep going. For several moments he just lazily stroked one finger in and out of her as her breathing began to sound more like panting. Inquisitively he slid his other finger into her, and their combined girth surprised and delighted her. Another deep groan sounded from her throat, and she lightly thrust herself against his fingers as he moved them inside her. He watched her face intently as she used his fingers to excite herself, and after a few minutes of stroking inside her with his fingers, he suddenly pulled them out of her with a satisfying, obscene sound that evidenced how wet she was. His mandibles flexed once more in anticipation at the sound.

            She felt empty, the ache in her belly growing now that he had removed his fingers. Garrus had moved his hands back to her knees and was watching her. Feeling slightly frustrated, she looked up into his face with a moan. He smiled at her but seemed to be waiting for something. With an exasperated sigh she reached toward him, her thighs falling against each other as she stretched forward. “Garrus, please,” she pleaded.

            “Please what?” he goaded her huskily. She had never heard his voice sound like that, and it nearly drove her crazy.

            “Garrus, please, fuck me,” she begged urgently. “I need you inside me.”

            With an almost evil smirk he spread her legs again and lowered himself over her. She felt his large sex searching for her opening and she lifted her hips to meet him. He pressed his forehead against hers and she returned his pressure, understanding why he needed this contact. He finally found what he was looking for, and she felt him ease himself into her, her wetness and excitement helping accommodate his size. She gasped, the feeling of being filled by him causing her to hold her breath for a few moments. He let out another hum of sub harmonics, his eyes shut tight. She shifted her hips up and pulled her legs open even further so that he could push deeper inside of her. Shepard moaned, feeling everything so intensely she felt pressure at the base of her throat.

            His breath was coming out in wheezes, emphasized by a continual soft hum of his sub harmonics. He hadn’t begun moving yet; instead he kept his forehead pressed to hers, trying to take deep breaths and savoring the feeling of her around him. Finally with a small growl he started thrusting, his forehead still pushing into hers as he did so. The sensation as he pulled out and pushed in her was exquisite. She let out a deep moan every time he thrust himself back into her and slid along every nerve, increasing the pressure at the base of her throat with the feeling.

            Garrus removed his forehead from hers and moved his mouth against her lips. She responded, sloppily pressing and rubbing her lips against his until his tongue reached out to meet hers, tasting her selfishly. He soon broke away from the kiss, and took hold of her thighs in each of his hands as he moved back into a half-kneeling position. He held her legs apart and she tried her best to answer each of his thrusts. He was moving faster, sliding in and out of her so quickly that her moans sounded like a staccato, each jerk of his hips into hers emphasized by the sound of her soft skin slapping his plated thighs and a cry bursting from her lips. She was getting louder with each of his movements, and she saw him watching her face, trying to decipher her moans and cries. A realization dawned on her that maybe she needed to give more specific verbal feedback to reassure him that he was doing it right and not causing her pain.

            “Yes, Garrus,” she moaned, each syllable of his name accented by a heavy intake of breath as he jerked harder in response. He grinned above her as she cried out his name again. Unable to resist any longer and desperately wanting to come, she reached a hand down and rested her middle finger on her clit. The soft, feather-light pressure of her finger on her swollen pearl as she moved her hips in response to his hard thrusts was enough to start pushing her closer to the edge, and her cries became even more incoherent as he continued at his insistent pace.

            And then it happened, sneaking up on her so swiftly that she nearly screamed. She felt herself clenching around him as her limbs quaked and her back arched, her moans and cries reaching fever pitch as her hips took on an uneven, wild rhythm as she convulsed beneath him. Shepard caught sight of Garrus’ face and saw pure victory gleaming in his eyes. He pushed her thighs back on either side of her chest, opening her up even more to him and he began shoving himself harder into her in shorter bursts, his thrusts feeling like a never-ending onslaught of passion as she continued to cry out. Her own orgasm had mostly finished, but it had made her more sensitive, and this new rhythm threatened to drive her into new, insane territory. Shepard’s cries sounded desperate; she couldn’t have quieted herself if she tried, and the gasping yelps only seemed to arouse him more.

            Suddenly his own powerful orgasm hit him, and his thrusts became sporadic and rough. He cried out triumphantly, his talons digging violently into her thighs as he tried urgently to push himself in her as deeply as he possibly could. The sharp change in his thrusts pushed her over the edge again as they caused him to roughly graze her swollen clit, and she cried out, jerking her hips in tandem as she felt his release fill her. She was surprised by her second orgasm, almost as much as he seemed to be. He collapsed on top of her, truly spent as he felt the dying sensation of her throbbing around him.

            For a moment, he laid on top of her, both of them panting and physically incapable of the slightest movement. Finally Garrus propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down into Shepard’s face with wonder evident in his eyes. She smiled up at him, her eyelashes fluttering and her cheeks flushed and sweaty.

            He continued staring at her before whispering, “I don’t think I expected that.” He reached his hand up and pushed hair off of her face, his touch gentle. “If I had to be honest, Fiona, I thought this was going to lean more towards ‘horrible interspecies-awkwardness.’”

            She giggled, and he winced as her laughter caused her to tense around where he remained inside of her. “Oh, sorry, that…happens,” she apologized. They laughed again together, and Shepard noticed how positively right and natural it felt. She stared up into his eyes, her laughter dying and her gaze softening as she searched his icy blue eyes. “I didn’t quite expect that either. I thought it was going to be more, uh…First Contact porn-like.”

            Garrus looked at her incredulously. “Is that the research you were doing?” he scoffed. “I can’t imagine what you thought was going to happen tonight, then.”

            Shepard gave an embarrassed giggle. “A lot more bondage, a lot less feeling,” she admitted.

            He shook his head, and then lowered his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. “That’s the part I didn’t expect, either,” he confessed. He raised his head and began to lift himself off of her, gingerly pulling himself out from where he still rested between her legs. She felt his release pour out of her as he removed himself, and the feeling stirred her deeply. She felt dirty, used, and yet that intimate feeling was tender and sexy; so many sensations and emotions all wrapped up into one, just like the lovemaking they had just shared. She noticed he had stopped pulling away from her and was staring at her thighs.

            “Is everything okay?” she asked.

            “I’m sorry, Fiona, it seems I, ah, may have gotten a little carried away,” he apologized.

            “Chafing?” she lifted a leg less than gracefully to try to see if she could see the damage. The entire back of her thigh was rubbed red and nearly raw from the friction of his plates, and she had large pinprick marks from where his talons had bit into her when he came. She smiled, completely unfazed by the damage. Instead, she felt tempted to wear her shorts out of her cabin to flaunt it around. She found herself not caring at all who knew what had just happened between them. And then she furrowed her brow, remembering the racket they had made. “Do you think anyone heard us?” She asked, looking up at him.

            He let out a sad laugh. “Normally, I would say yes, but there’s not really many people around to hear us at the moment,” he remarked. Silence fell between them for a moment as Shepard remembered why he had finally come to her cabin; they were about to embark on a suicide mission. “Although I would pay to see the look on Miranda or Jacob’s face,” he added, trying to lighten the mood.

            Shepard chuckled, imagining the scandalized looks on her Cerberus squadmates’ faces. But the tranquil moment had fled when he reminded her about her missing crew, and she sat up in the middle of the bed. She looked exposed and vulnerable, and he stared at her with a tender expression on his face, reveling in the unique privilege of seeing this side of her. “Garrus…” She said, and looked up at where he stood at the foot of the bed.

            He nodded slightly; he understood. “Fiona, this was…” he struggled to find the right word. “I believe humans have a saying, about being so happy they could die?” he smiled down at her. “Fiona, if we don’t make it…know that I will die a very, very happy Turian.”

            Shepard felt her eyes fill with tears again. “I feel the same, Garrus.”

            They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, quiet understanding blossoming between them. She wished the moment could go on forever. But it couldn’t, and he bent to pick up his clothes and headed toward the bathroom. Shepard knelt on the bed, watching him go, wishing desperately that they could stay here in this moment.

            “Commander?” Joker’s voice called out over the comms.

            Wiping absently at her cheek Shepard responded, trying to keep her voice neutral, “Yes, Joker?”

            “We’re about fifteen minutes from the Omega-4 Relay.”

            “Thank you, Joker,” she said, and finally slid to the end of the bed to get cleaned up and changed. Garrus exited the bathroom and watched her moving naked around the cabin for a minute, an odd look in his eyes.

            “Was that Joker?” he finally asked. She nodded in response and made her own way toward the bathroom. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. Again they stared at each other, neither wanting to say a word. Garrus lowered his forehead and briefly touched it to hers, and then pressed his mouth against her lips. With that he turned and left her cabin. She stood staring after him for a moment, then shook herself and headed to the shower. She needed to get her head on straight if they were going to go through that Relay.


	11. The Omega-4 Relay

            After her quick shower, she opened the tube of ointment Mordin had given her and rubbed some on her stinging thighs. She hadn’t noticed the damage until she got in the shower; the hot water had irritated the raw skin, but the ointment immediately soothed her enflamed nerves. Just to be on the safe side, she used some on her more delicate areas before she put on her under-armor garments. Shepard carefully latched each piece of armor as she put it on, tugging them roughly to make sure they were on properly. She spent more time than normal inspecting the fit of each piece, trying to re-channel her nerves by taking an unusual amount of caution in her armoring.

            When she was satisfied that each piece was in its place, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She felt an odd draw to her own face, looking over the spots where her former scars had finally healed but where she knew they had been. Her lips still looked pinker and fuller than normal from the amorous activity she had just taken part in, but otherwise she saw her thin, angular features as they always were. Her previous brush with death had made her feel a bit more attached to herself than she had been over two years ago, in ways she could only interpret as an increase in her will to live. But the last two hours’ activities had given her another attachment. She felt herself desperately wanting to survive so that she could have even just one more night with Garrus. The shocking revelation of their intense, tender obsessions with each other had woken something in her that she had never felt.  With a silly and militaristic parting nod to herself in the mirror, she picked up her helmet and left her cabin, more determined than ever to win.

 

* * *

 

 

            Joker glanced sideways at Shepard, and she could tell he wanted desperately to ask her. “Shut up,” she said, not looking at him. He smirked and faced forward once more.

            “Yes, Commander,” he muttered, his voice dripping with unspoken humor. Shepard sighed deeply, now regretting the moment of weakness when she had confessed her plans with Garrus to him. If she had thought to ask Mordin first, she wouldn’t be dealing with Joker’s knowing looks and sly smiles. Unable to keep it in, Joker burst out, “Well how was it? I swear you look like you’re glowing.”

            “Joker, shut up,” she commanded again, her voice firm and her cheeks flushing.

            “Fine, fine, don’t tell your crippled friend - who helped you out, I might add. You know I could have used some stress relief too; I had to survive the Collectors taking the crew. I’m about to fly us through a Relay, possibly to never return. I’m tense!” Joker shook his head as he maneuvered the ship closer to the Relay. He kept muttering under his breath, and she was sure she heard the words “ungrateful” and “living vicariously.” She smirked a little, unable to stop herself.

            “We’re here, Commander,” Joker still sounded sullen.

            Shepard took a deep breath. She hit the comm. button and announced, “We’re at the Omega-4 Relay. Everyone get ready to go through it.”

            Beside her, Joker took some steadying breaths in the cockpit chair. Feeling a moment of humorous goodwill come over her, Shepard chuckled and said, “Thanks, Joker, for everything.” He looked up at her expectantly. “Because it was fantastic,” and she winked at him.

            He let out a laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “Oh, man, that felt weird. Don’t ever tell anyone I was that excited, okay?” He stopped laughing and turned serious, taking a deep breath. “Are we ready, Commander?”

            She looked out the window at the large Relay in front of them. She gripped the back of Joker’s seat tightly. “Ready.”

            “Let’s do this, EDI,” Joker said.

            “Ready when you are, Joker,” the AI’s feminine voice rang out. Joker drove the ship forward to the Relay, then put it into FTL as the Relay hooked the Normandy and shot it off in an unknown direction. Shepard held onto the pilot’s chair to steady herself as their speed increased. Once through the Omega-4 Relay, Joker cried out and slammed off the FTL and swerved; the other side of the Relay was covered in the debris of other ships that had made the trip.

            Joker and EDI easily maneuvered through the graveyard of wreckage, but soon the sensors were going off. “We are being pursued,” EDI informed them.

            “That’s them!” Shepard gritted out, and saw the same ship she had seen at Horizon and, she realized in shock, the ship that had pursued the Normandy 1 the night she had died. “Joker get us out of their range!”

            “Working on it Commander!” Joker grunted, pulling hard on the controls. The Normandy shook as the Collectors’ beam hit the ship, but the shields held and Joker changed course to avoid another hit. He looped the ship around, yelling jubilantly as he directed EDI to fire the cannons. “Let’s see how they like this!” Joker cried.

            The cannons of the Normandy fired upon the Collectors’ ship, and Shepard saw them make satisfying contact. “Get us in there,” Shepard commanded.

            Joker did his best to dodge debris, but accidentally caught on a large piece of wreckage and the Normandy went spinning toward the Collector ship. Joker and EDI managed to regain control just in time, but the Normandy landed unceremoniously on top of the asteroid that hid the enemy’s ship, sliding and skidding to a halt.

            Shepard picked herself up from where she had been thrown back onto the cockpit floor and looked out the window, but she saw no activity surrounding their landing spot. “EDI, do they know we’re here?”

            “Not yet, Shepard,” EDI replied smoothly. “The Reaper IFF seems to still be disguising us.”

            “Good,” Shepard muttered. “Joker, stay with the ship, try to get it fully functional again. Be ready for us to get out of here. We may have prepared for a one-way trip, but I know I plan on making it back.”

            “Aye-aye, Commander,” Joker replied, and he began pressing controls to lower the lights in the cockpit to help disguise his presence.

            “Everyone, meet me in the briefing room,” Shepard called over the comms as she made her way in that direction.

            When she entered the room, Miranda, Jacob, and Jack were already waiting for her. They were quickly joined by the rest of the squad, and they all took places around the briefing table. EDI had pulled up a schematic of the Collectors’ ship that she had managed to gather in the few minutes since they had landed. Miranda studied it intently, frowning.

            “Commander, I have analyzed the Collectors’ base,” EDI informed her. “They seem to be amassing forces here,” she highlighted a spot on the schematic. “And there is a barrier here, behind where they are gathering. It appears to lead further into the base,” She highlighted another spot. Shepard sighed, thinking as she looked over the hologram.

            “What about here, what’s this?” Miranda asked, pointing at what seemed to be a path parallel to the barrier.

            “It is a ventilation shaft,” EDI answered.

            “We could send someone through that,” Miranda looked to Shepard, who nodded.

            “I’ll go,” Jacob volunteered immediately. Shepard firmly shook her head.

            “We need someone who is an expert in tech and infiltration, who could shut down the barrier before being detected,” Shepard mused. She looked to their resident master thief. “Kasumi, sounds like your kind of gig.”

            “Oh all right, Shep, if you insist,” Kasumi agreed lightly.

            “This looks like an alternate path, here,” Miranda pointed out. “We could come at them from this side while Kasumi sneaks into their systems, and disorient them, distract them.”

            Shepard nodded her agreement. “We’ll need someone to lead the second strike team.”

            “Someone with leadership experience,” Miranda agreed. “I volunteer.”

            Shepard thought for a moment. A strike team, disrupting the enemy and making themselves a nuisance as a distraction, intending to cause disorder so that the enemy could be blindsided by something else. A slight smile tugged at her lips when she remembered where she had heard of such tactics before. She looked to Garrus, and found his eyes resting resolutely on her. He seemed to be sharing the same thought. “Garrus, think you can put your Omega skills to use?” Shepard asked him.

            “Trust me, Shepard, those Collectors won’t know what hit them,” he replied smoothly.

            Miranda shrugged. “At least he knows what he’s doing,” she admitted.

            “That just begs the question of who will go with you, Shepard,” Tali chimed in.

            Shepard pondered for a moment, trying to think of how to balance her team with the strike team. She would be moving stealthily to support Kasumi’s position in the shafts as she disabled their defenses. She needed quiet attacks and backup tech skill in case Kasumi needed her aid. Garrus’ team needed brute strength and loud explosions, marksmanship that could take down as many Collectors as possible as a distraction. Grunt and Thane are perfect for his team, she thought to herself. Samara and Jack could provide biotic support and diversions, too, while Jacob can unleash his precise strikes to help take down more of the enemy. Mordin and Legion’s tech skills would be handy as well in case they ran into any armored enemies or obstacles in their way. She came to her decision.

            “Tali, Miranda, you’re with me. Everyone else will help Garrus on the strike team.”

            Her decision was greeted with murmurs of assent and the squad began checking their weapons, commenting to each other on their plans for the Collectors. She looked over all of them and saw Garrus staring at her silently. Their gaze held for a moment; nothing that they had to say needed to be spoken out loud. He nodded at her, understanding the trust she was placing in him to lead the strike team. She returned the gesture and finally looked away to check the heat sink on her gun. She looked up at the team standing before her. “Everyone ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the Collector Base part written but...we'll skip it. Close to canon, everybody lives. Happiest of the happy endings for the Suicide Mission. That's all that matters.
> 
> xx,  
> L


	12. Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks up at their escape from Collector Base, again - happiest of happy suicide mission endings.
> 
> xx,  
> L

            “Do you copy? Commander? Come on, Shepard, don’t leave me hanging! Do you copy?” Joker’s voice cried out on the comms.

            “I’m here, Joker, did the ground team make it?” Shepard questioned him as she made her way to the platform’s other side and the path back to where they had entered the room.

            “All onboard, just waiting for you.”

            Behind her suddenly, Shepard heard buzzing and turned. The seeker swarms and some remaining Collectors were beginning to give chase.

            “Run!” Shepard yelled, and her team began sprinting away from the pursuing enemies.

            “Human, you have changed nothing,” rang out the familiar voice of Harbinger. “Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater.”

            Shepard ignored the taunting voice and continued following the figures of Tali and Kasumi as they ran at a break-neck pace to reach the Normandy in time.

            “That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through your destruction,” the ringing voice continued. Explosions surrounded her as the Collectors behind her fired upon the fleeing figures of her squad. She dodged their gunfire and encouraged the other two to continue their pace.

            Suddenly, ahead of them at the end of the seemingly dead-end path they were on, the Normandy rose to greet them. The airlock opened, and Joker stood holding a rifle, covering them with suppressing fire and laughing tauntingly as he did so. Tali and Kasumi easily jumped into the airlock behind him, but Shepard was several steps behind them. The platform in front of her was hit by falling debris and collapsed, and she took a split second to register the distance before she launched herself in a leap from her current platform toward the airlock of the Normandy. She flew through the air and caught the edge of the airlock with her hands. She pulled herself up so that she was better supported by her elbows, but then found the helping hands of Tali and Kasumi pulling her into the ship. The Collectors were still firing at the ship, and Joker continued to yell cheesy catch phrases as he returned fire.

            As soon as Shepard was pulled aboard, the airlock door closed and the Normandy began to soar away, trying to escape the imminent blast of the Collector base. The four of them left the airlock and raced into the cockpit, where EDI was counting down to the detonation. “I know, I know!” Joker cried, and punched buttons to send the Normandy on an FTL path back to the Relay. Beneath them, the Collector base began to explode, and Shepard found herself tightly grasping the back of Joker’s chair, muttering under her breath for him to go faster. The Normandy hit turbulence as the shockwave of the explosive blast began to hit them, and then Joker finally hit FTL and they sped away, escaping destruction. The hook of the Relay caught them and threw them back in the direction they had originally come from, toward the Omega-4 Mass Relay.

            Shepard let loose a sigh of relief, unaware she had been holding her breath. Beside her Kasumi and Tali were hugging, laughing as they realized they had survived. Shepard’s relief turned to determination, and she quickly marched from the cockpit to the briefing room. She passed crew members who cheered as she walked by, but she didn’t pause to see them. Upon reaching the briefing room, she saw that the ship had taken some minor damage, and she lifted the bits of wreckage blocking the door. She entered the room as the briefing table retracted into the floor, the comms dais rising for her to step onto. She connected to the Illusive Man, and stood with her feet braced, ready for the confrontation.

            The Illusive Man’s image came into view and she saw him again smoking his customary cigarette. He was seated and looked displeased. “Shepard,” he began, his tone sneering. “You’re making a habit of costing me more than time and money.”

            “Too many lives were lost at that base,” she replied, her eyes snapping fire. “I’m not sorry it’s gone.”

            “The first of many lives,” the Illusive Man replied. “The technology from that base could have secured human dominance in the galaxy. Against the Reapers and beyond.”

            “Human dominance, or just Cerberus?” she scoffed.

            “Strength for Cerberus is strength for every human. Cerberus is humanity,” he stood, frowning. “I should have known you’d choke on the hard decisions. Too idealistic from the start.”

            “I’m not looking for your approval,” Shepard told him. “Harbinger is coming, and he won’t be alone. Humanity needs a leader who’s looking out for them. From now on, I’m doing things my way, whether you agree or not,” she spat, and began to turn to leave.

            “Don’t you turn your back on me, Shepard - ” the Illusive Man barked, his voice rising.

            “Joker, lose this channel,” Shepard commanded flatly, and the hologram went blank.

            She stood for a moment in the briefing room, absorbing the last few hours. They had done it. The Collector base was destroyed, their crew rescued, the human Reaper destroyed, and ties cut with the Illusive Man. She took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of victory. But then a frown passed her face, and she hurried out of the room. Now to make sure everyone made it, she thought as she hurried to the command room.

            She was greeted by a cacophony of sound as all of the Normandy crew cheered at her appearance. She looked out among them and saw everyone that they had rescued, as well as every member of her team. There was one face she sought more than any other, and finally she saw Garrus’ tall frame standing to her left, beside the elevator. He was smiling at her, arms folded and a suggestive gleam in his eye. She returned the smile, and then looked out at the crew. “I’d say we’ve all earned a break, wouldn’t you?” she yelled above the crewmembers who were still cheering. This declaration was met with even more applause. “Joker?”

            “Yes, Commander,” Joker replied over the comms.

            “Get us to the Citadel for a little bit of shore leave,” her pronouncement was again met by yells of approval, including from Joker. “And the trip there is also R&R. If you need medical help, seek it out from Drs. Chakwas or Solus, otherwise…this time is yours.” She turned and headed to the elevator as the rest of the crew greeted each other and began to make plans for their shore leave. As she stepped into the elevator, Garrus casually stepped in as well, standing beside her and staring straight ahead. They were silent on the short trip up to her cabin, and as soon as the doors opened she exited, beginning to strip out of her armor.


	13. Surprises

            She had removed her shoulders, arms, and chest before she spun around to see him also fumbling with his armor latches. He followed her into the cabin so that the door shut behind them all the way, and then grabbed her armor-free waist and pulled her to him. Still both half-clad in armor, he pressed his mouth roughly against hers, holding the kiss as he backed her into the wall that housed her aquarium. They kissed for several long moments, still clinging to one another as their tongues tasted each other with growing impatience. Garrus broke away from the kiss finally and resumed removing his armor. Shepard bent and removed her boots, then tugged off her greaves as quickly as she could. Garrus had stripped down completely naked, since he wore nothing under his armor. He reached back over to her and pulled her shirt off and then started to pull her pants down. Shepard’s breath caught in her throat as he knelt in front of her, lifting one of her legs and hooking it over his shoulder as he maneuvered her back to lean against the wall.

            His tongue snaked out and gently touched in between her lips, brushing her clit as he did so. She cried out in awe as she numbly realized that he was kneeling in front of her, about to pleasure her. Just the thought made her tremble. His mandibles fluttered against her thighs and he began to concentrate his tongue on the small nub that he was beginning to learn had the ability to drive her wild. Her breath was already coming out in pants as her fingers began to stroke his fringe and then lower on his neck. He tightened his grip on her thighs when she touched beneath his fringe, and so she made sure she continued to stroke it as he worked on her with his tongue.

            The adrenaline from the mission was still coursing through her system, and she already felt herself close to losing control. The feeling of his tongue as it slid against her clit was sending shivers through her body, and soon her responsive sobs were taking on a familiar pattern. He slid one of his hands from her thigh and slowly inserted a finger inside of her. His mandibles flexed again upon discovering how wet she was, and he slowed his tongue’s strokes to tease her. She gasped, her hands clutching the back of his neck, and she moaned and tried to rub herself against his tongue faster. He pulled back slightly, removing his tongue but keeping his finger inside of her. She groaned and looked down into his smiling face, trying to figure out why he had stopped. He moved his finger inside her and her eyelids fluttered, pleasure coursing through her. But he kept his tongue from her, and finally she tried begging, her voice a hoarse whisper, “Garrus, please, I’m so close.”

            He stroked his finger faster, and his tongue took up its pace once more on her clit. The renewed contact made her snap her head back against the wall in surprise, and she continued to whisper his name in between moans. Her release came softly, and her knees quaked beneath her as she felt herself clutching around his finger, her hips gyrating against him. He continued slowly licking her as her quiet cries became more disjointed, and she had to gently push his head away as she felt overwhelmed by the sensation he was creating with his tongue.

            Garrus slipped her leg from his shoulder and picked her up, carefully carrying her to the bed where he laid her on her back. He lowered himself to her, watching her face in a fascinated way. He seemed to hesitate as she lay with her eyes closed, trying to recuperate from what had just happened. She looked up at him finally, feeling her strength returning. His head was cocked and he looked a little lost. “Garrus, are you okay?” she asked.

            “I didn’t realize, maybe I should have asked…” he stroked his hand down her side and his eyes feasted hungrily on her lower half. “Can you go again?” his voice was gravelly with his need, and she saw him hard and waiting for her once more. She smiled and nodded, staring with anticipation at his obvious excitement. He gave a small growl and rolled her easily onto her stomach and then lifted her hips up to his with his powerful hands. The dominant action aroused her, and she pushed herself up on her hands so that she was kneeling in front of him, her legs on the outside of his in order to better accommodate his size.

            He pressed his tip against her opening, and then gradually eased himself into her. She realized he seemed a little hesitant, like he was worried he had hurt her the last time and she might still be tender. As she felt him push into her, she gauged how she felt and found herself no worse for wear. She smiled to herself in greedy anticipation and moaned her approval loudly so that he knew she wasn’t hurting. In response, he gripped her hips tightly and pushed himself even deeper into her, encouraged by the sharp gasp he received as he did so.

            For a moment, he enjoyed the feeling of her around him, and she bit her lip, savoring the sensations she experienced in this new position. His talons dug into her hips as he began thrusting into her, and soon she recognized how different this was from their previous session of lovemaking; he was more aggressive, more commanding in how he was handling her. He held her in his hands firmly, directing the speed and rhythm at which she responded to him, changing the angle of her hips whenever it suited him. His own thrusts were hard and fast, and her moans quickly turned into short cries as he pounded himself into her. The feeling of him being in complete control was driving her crazy, and she pushed her lips together to quiet her noises a bit, remembering that the ship was once more full of crewmembers. This seemed to upset him, though, because he reached a hand into her hair and pulled her head back toward him; he leaned down and whispered, “I want you to be as loud as you can be, Commander Shepard,” his breath teasing her ear. She moaned, the formal address stirring something primal in her. He thrust into her violently for a few moments until she began crying out, his name spilling from her lips again and again as she clutched the sheets beneath her.

            He released her hair and reached a finger around the front of her, mimicking her previous move of lightly pressing it to her clit as he continued to easily control her hips’ pace with his other hand. The feeling was electric, and she groaned loudly as she felt herself pushed right to the edge. Again he leaned over her, his teeth nipping her earlobe and eliciting a gasp from her. “Beg me, Fiona,” he purred. She stumbled over the words, immediately begging him to go harder, faster, to keep his finger on her, to continue to fuck her. She said please over and over, begging him for her orgasm. He growled in satisfaction, and the deep hum of his sub harmonics finally sent her plummeting over the edge. Shepard screamed his name and fought his grip on her hips to push back against him in her own sporadic rhythm. But she found that his rhythm suddenly matched hers as he came with her, pouring himself into her, his thrusting aggressive as she throbbed and clenched tightly around him, desperately sobbing at her own intense release.

            When their orgasms finally ended, they collapsed on the bed together, and he gently rolled off her back so as to avoid crushing her. They lay still, the only sound in the cabin the bubbling of her large fish tank and their heavy panting. She could feel his release pouring out of her onto her thighs, and she relished it.

            “I’m so happy we made it,” Shepard murmured after what felt like an eternity lying beside each other. Garrus began to laugh, and she quickly joined him.

            “Me too, Fiona, me too,” he agreed. “I know I said I _could_ die a very happy Turian, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to. Not when I had this to look forward to again.”

            Shepard giggled and reached a hand out to him, resting it lightly on his chest. He placed one of his own large hands on it, and their fingers entwined, his three large digits cradling her dainty five. She stared curiously at the sight, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I can’t believe we did it,” she confessed.

            Garrus squeezed her hand. “I can,” he told her, and she saw a softened look in his eyes. “I never doubted you. If anyone could achieve something so impossible, it’s you.”

            They lay next to each other, still trying to come down from their shared euphoria, studying each other’s faces as leisurely as they wanted. Garrus was stroking her hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin. After several long minutes spent this way, he propped himself on his elbow, careful to maintain hold of her hand as he shifted.

            “Fiona,” he began. “I know we said this was going to just be, ah, easing tension,” he smiled as she giggled. “But I also think, maybe -”

            “Commander?” Joker’s voice rang out over the comms. “Sorry to interrupt your ‘we’re so happy to be alive’ fun, but Admiral Hackett is requesting to be patched through.”

            Shepard sat bolt upright in bed. “Give me a minute, Joker, you can patch him through up here.” She hopped out of bed and snatched up some clothes from the floor, throwing them on and sitting down at her desk. She pulled the message up, and the face of Admiral Hackett appeared before her on a makeshift display, courtesy of the glass case above her private terminal. Dimly she realized her hair must be a sweaty mess, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

            “Admiral,” she said, unsure if she should salute. She hadn’t been an active part of the Alliance since being brought back to life.

            “Commander, it’s – good to see you alive again,” the Admiral remarked. But he didn’t quite sound happy to see her. “I wasn’t sure, when I first heard the news…Admiral Anderson had mentioned he had seen you on the Citadel, but seeing you with my own two eyes,” he shook his head and trailed off, disbelieving.

            “Wait… _Admiral_ Anderson?” Shepard questioned.

            “Yes, Commander. Anderson has stepped down from his position on the Council and has resumed his position as Admiral in the Alliance.”

            Shepard frowned, confused. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?” She asked hesitantly. She could see Garrus sitting up on the bed behind the terminal, trying to be quiet as he did so.

            “I’m afraid we’ve gotten word of your recent, ah, activities. I’ve been ordered to send forces to capture you and the Normandy, but I wanted to give you an option to return to Earth willingly before it comes to that,” his face was stoic, his voice unwavering.

            She stared at the display for a moment, baffled. “Sir, if you mean my work with Cerberus, I can explain - ”

            “Your work with Cerberus is just the tip of the iceberg,” Hackett interrupted her sharply. “Now we’ve received word about the Mass Relay you destroyed in the Bahak System, destroying the whole system, killing 300,000 Batarians - ”

            “What?” Shepard cried, and she saw Garrus stand, walking toward her. She looked over and gave him a warning frown not to come into view. Returning her attention to Admiral Hackett, she protested, “Admiral, sir, I’ve just come from the Omega-4 Relay, I couldn’t have been in the Bahak System.”

            “Shepard, if I were you, I wouldn’t say another word without a tribunal lawyer present,” Hackett warned her. He took a deep breath and continued. “As I said, I’ve been ordered to send a fleet to capture the Normandy and everyone aboard it for crimes against humanity and the galaxy. Instead, I’m giving you forty-eight hours to turn yourself in on Earth to answer for your crimes.”

            “Sir, I – ”

            “Commander, please. Whatever defenses you have, save them for the tribunal. I was only tasked with bringing you in, not deciding the verdict,” he sounded weary. “Forty-eight hours, Shepard. That’s all I can give you.”

            Shepard sighed incredulously. “Yes, Admiral,” she finally agreed. “Thank you.”

            He looked at her for a moment, seeming like he was on the verge of saying something, and then shook his head. “Hackett out.”

            Her display went blank again, and she sat staring at it for a long moment before she finally raised her eyes to Garrus as he approached her. He leaned an arm against the glass display case, staring down at her. “What could they possibly mean? The Mass Relay in the Bahak System? Shepard, that couldn’t have been us,” he mused.

            “No, but I’ll give you one guess who wants everyone to think it was me,” Shepard put her forehead in her hands, frustrated and defeated.

            “The Illusive Man,” Garrus answered. He stood watching her for a moment, and then stepped forward and knelt before her chair. “Shepard, you were right not to keep the Collector base around.”

            Shepard gave an imperceptible nod into her hands, still not looking up. “I’m going to be court-martialed,” she muttered. It was unbelievable. She had saved the galaxy twice, and yet now she was about to be thrown out of the Alliance, possibly thrown into jail as the Reapers approached the galaxy. She would be powerless to stop them.

            “You don’t know that,” Garrus whispered reassuringly. He reached up a hand and pushed her sweaty, tangled hair behind her ear. “There’s a chance they’ll see reason.”

            Shepard gave a weak laugh. “And here I was, so happy to be alive.”

            “Hey now,” Garrus lifted her chin, raising her face so that he could look into her eyes. “You’re Commander Fiona Fucking Shepard,” he said. “If anyone can make them see reason, it’s you.” He lightly squeezed her chin. “And if not, I’ll just orchestrate a prison break.”

            She nodded, giving the slightest smile. “I need to let Joker know…We need to let most of the crew off at the Citadel,” she sighed. “I’m not letting good people who helped stop the Collectors take the blame for something they didn’t have anything to do with, even if they did work for Cerberus.”

            Garrus released her chin and stood, frowning. “I suppose that means you’ll be letting your, ah, alien teammates go as well.”

            Shepard stared up at him, biting her lip. “I think it’s best, Garrus. You can’t get caught up in this.” She stood and took his hand in hers. “Besides, the Alliance has no jurisdiction over you. It would be a waste to drag you to Earth instead of letting you off at the Citadel.”

            “Oh I don’t know, I’ve always wanted to see Earth,” Garrus mused. He was watching Shepard’s face, a soft look in his eyes. “But I guess I can save that trip for the prison break.”

            She chuckled, squeezing his hand before she released it. “Joker?” she said over the comms, taking a step back from Garrus.

            “Commander?” Joker responded.

            “Change of plans…The Citadel is no longer shore leave.” She sighed. “Instead, we’ll be letting most of the crew go there before returning to Earth.”

            “Bad news from Hackett?” Joker questioned.

            “Worse than that,” she admitted. “I need to stand trial for crimes against humanity and the galaxy.”

            “Shit,” Joker muttered over the comms. “All right, I’ll let people know. Eight hours left to the Citadel, just so you know. Joker out.”

            Shepard stood with her hands on her hips, thinking. Forty-eight hours, Hackett had said. Before the suicide mission she had felt an internal countdown start, her stomach in knots of anxiety as she had awaited the harrowing mission. She felt the same countdown commence now, marking forty-eight hours left of freedom.

            She looked up at Garrus, still contemplating. Eight hours to the Citadel. It was about five from the Citadel to Earth. She had forty-three total hours until she needed to say one last goodbye to him. “Stay with me, Garrus,” she whispered. He stepped toward her, his hands resting on her waist as he pulled her to him. “Stay with me until I leave for Earth.”

            He nodded, his hands lightly lifting up her shirt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he murmured, lowering his forehead to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before Hero Worship, but when I was editing it all I could think was, "Garrus, your Garrett is showing."  
> Hehe.  
> Also, this is my interpretation of what sent Shepard back to Earth. Going to get a bit angsty, but still not as bad as it could be.  
> xx,  
> L


	14. The Countdown Begins

            They lay in bed, basking in the afterglow of their passion. Garrus had gently taken her again, trying to assuage any doubts she had about her current situation and the future. It was remarkable to her how quickly she turned to him for comfort, and yet she realized it was just another layer to their relationship. They had already been emotionally intimate, seeking each other out for counsel when needed and relying on one another for bolstering reassurances throughout the trials of their missions. Adding physical comfort and intimacy to their relationship was easy, considering how close they had already been.

            Shepard lay on her side, Garrus pressed against her back, their legs bent beneath them. His strong arm rested over hers, their hands holding one another, fingers entwined once more. For the first time she could ever remember, Shepard felt content and safe, her worries dissipating until they seemed as distant memories. Garrus’ face was resting against her hair, and she could tell that he was breathing in her scent deeply.

            “What will you do?” she asked, her voice lazy and unhurried. She rubbed her thumb softly against his hand in a repetitive motion. He sighed contentedly as he thought.

            “I’m not sure, yet,” he answered. He nuzzled his face against her hair, thinking. “The Reapers are the real threat. I should probably try to do something about them until I hear whether or not you need me to rescue you.”

            She scoffed playfully, trying to sound offended. “Rescue me? I’m Commander Fiona Fucking Shepard, I don’t need to be rescued.”

            “All right, not rescued,” he agreed, “but broken out of Alliance jail. How’s that?”

            She pushed herself back against him, suddenly feeling like she wasn’t close enough. He tightened his arm around her, snuggling her intimately against him. She giggled. “Much better,” she sighed, her fingers squeezing his gently. Shepard finally drifted off to sleep, cradled in Garrus’ arms. For the first time in months, her sleep was dreamless and deep, undisturbed by memories of her death or lucid yearnings for the Turian who now held her close.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Commander, we have arrived at the Citadel,” EDI’s voice rang out in the cabin, and Shepard sat up, momentarily disoriented. Beside her Garrus stirred as well, his hips draped in the sheets they had been snuggling under as they slept. The sight of him vulnerable in his sleep made her smile, but she began stretching and clambered off the bed.

            “Thank you, EDI,” Shepard said. “Please tell all of the crew to meet me in the CIC.”

            “Yes, Shepard,” the AI replied.

            Shepard began moving around to find her clothes, and Garrus finally sat up in bed and pushed the sheets back. He reached to the bedside table for his visor and put it on before he stood up. He caught sight of her walking naked through the cabin and chuckled. “If it weren’t for the fact that you’d probably kill me, Fiona, I’d be tempted to take a picture to keep for later,” he teased her.

            She gave him a wicked smile over her shoulder. “Maybe later,” she proposed. His eye plates raised and his mandibles fluttered in surprise, obviously pleased by her suggestion. “But for now I need to say goodbye to everyone,” she sighed as she pulled on her casual uniform.

            “Should I accompany you and keep up appearances that I’m leaving now as well?” Garrus asked as he began to put his armor on.

            Shepard thought as she ran a comb through her tousled hair. She honestly didn’t care if anyone onboard knew that the two of them were spending the next thirty-five hours saying a prolonged goodbye, but if word got back to the Alliance, or if Cerberus found out how much he meant to her… She cringed at the thought of what they might do.

            “It might be best,” she agreed. “I can’t guarantee some people won’t run back to Cerberus.”

            Garrus nodded and finished the latches on his gloves. “Should I go down now?”

            Shepard set her comb down finally and shrugged. “May as well come down with me.”

            They took the elevator down together, trying to keep a professional demeanor up and standing with some space between them. Vaguely she realized she hadn’t showered, and some of her more scent-gifted teammates were bound to smell Garrus on her. As she thought about it, though, she realized most of them had expressed their support and tried to get the two of them together. The crew members she was worried about were human, and wouldn’t be able to smell a thing.

            The elevator doors opened and she saw the CIC full of crewmembers once more, but this time the crowd was murmuring quietly and standing huddled together, confusion on their faces. Garrus split off from her to go stand beside Tali, who looked him up and down before nudging his arm with her elbow. He gave her a small smile in response and the Quarian giggled knowingly. Shepard saw Thane staring at Garrus, and then he slowly turned his gaze to Shepard, frowning. She hoped he’d be tactful enough not to mention it.

            Shepard cleared her throat, but the crowd continued their hushed conversations. She took several steps onto the galaxy map’s dais and called for quiet. Faces finally looked up to her, her crew waiting expectantly. “I know I said this would be shore leave, but instead, this is going to be the last stop aboard the Normandy for most of you,” Shepard announced. A hush of fresh whisperings began, and she waited for it to end before she spoke again. “I am returning to Earth to face charges for our work against the Collectors and the Reapers.”

            Some indignant shouts of protest met these words, and she waited again for silence. Her engineers, Donnelly and Daniels, were shouting their outrage together, trying to start a chant in her favor. Shepard shook her head and held up a hand for calm. Once they had settled down, she continued, “We knew that what we were doing would upset some people, but we did it anyway because we believed it to be right, and because we were steadfast in our convictions. But now it is time to face the consequences.” She sighed. “However, since I was the commanding officer, I believe these consequences should rest on my shoulders. Therefore, I am releasing you here, at the Citadel, since you were just following my orders.”

            More murmurs of wonder and some denials met this pronouncement. “I would like to thank you for everything you did to face the Collectors with us. We would not have been able to do this without you.” She looked out at all of their faces, and saw some tears and frowns greeting her. “Dismissed.”

            There was a flurry of movement as people began hugging and making their way to the airlock. Several people approached Shepard to shake her hand before departing, and a few more approached to offer to make the trip to Earth with her. These she denied, insisting they did not need to do so, but when Dr. Chakwas approached her and declared her intent, Shepard faltered.

            “Dr. Chakwas, are you sure?” she asked.

            The older woman nodded resolutely. “Yes, Commander. I also left my post with the Alliance to work against the Collectors with Cerberus’ assistance. It’s time I faced any consequences they deem necessary as well.”

            Shepard reached out a hand, and the doctor clasped it in both of hers. “Thank you for everything, Doctor.”

            “When are we leaving? I thought I heard Jeff say not for a while?”

            “Oh, yes, the ship needs, ah, some repairs after the attack on the Collectors,” Shepard explained hurriedly. The other woman raised her eyebrows at her and glanced back to where Garrus stood talking to their teammates. “We still have thirty-five hours before departure, if you have something you would like to do on the Citadel, Doctor,” Shepard finished lamely. Nothing seemed to slip by the ship’s doctor.

            Dr. Chakwas chuckled. “I’m sure I can find something to do, to give you two some privacy.”

            Shepard opened her mouth to protest, but the doctor clapped her on the shoulder and walked away to speak with Joker. Shepard sighed and walked over to her teammates, who stood in a huddled group talking.

            “Shepard, you shouldn’t have to do this,” Miranda said as she saw the Commander approach.

            “Yeah, Commander, let us go with you,” Jacob appealed.

            Shepard shook her head. “No. You don’t answer to the Alliance. I still do. I need to face this alone,” she asserted.

            Her team fell silent, some of them staring at their feet.

            “Commander Shepard, it has been an honor,” Samara declared, holding her hand out to Shepard. She took it and smiled at the justicar.

            “Thank you, Samara, for helping our cause,” Shepard replied. The Asari stepped back, and Kasumi held out her hand next.

            “Thanks, Shep. I’d say call me, but I know if you did it would just be for another suicide mission, and, well - I’d rather not,” Kasumi teased. Shepard smiled and shook her hand.

            “Shepard-Commander,” Legion said, also stepping forward. He hesitantly mimicked Samara and Kasumi and extended his arm. Shepard clasped it.

            “Thank you, Legion,” Shepard murmured. The teammates who had said goodbye were beginning to head toward the airlock as the rest took turns stepping forward. Mordin shook her hand, uncharacteristically quiet until he just said, “An honor,” and walked away.

            Jacob saluted her. “Commander, thank you for giving me this chance,” he said as she returned the salute.

            Miranda hesitated before her, unsure. Shepard took the lead and stepped forward, giving the other woman a brief hug. “Thank you for trusting me, Miranda,” she said as she stepped back. Miranda nodded. “Thank you for helping me, Shepard,” her lieutenant replied and walked away after Jacob.

            Jack was next, standing and glaring at Shepard. Finally her look softened and she gave Shepard a fleeting hug. “Hey, thanks for everything,” she whispered, hoping no one else would hear her. Shepard nodded at her. “Take care of yourself, Jack.” The biotic rolled her eyes and swore before she quickly made her way to the airlock, trying to cover her brief show of emotion.

            Thane stepped forward and extended his hand. “Shepard, siha, I -” he hesitated as she took his hand. “Thank you, Thane,” she said, finishing his thought for him. He nodded jerkily at her and began his walk toward the airlock, stopping once to look back at her.

            Grunt extended his arm and Shepard clasped it tightly with her own. “What are you going to do, Grunt?” she asked. She felt an odd attachment to the Krogan, having been the one who had awakened him from his tank. Joker frequently teased her that the Krogan was her adopted son.

            “Return to Tuchanka, take my rightful place with Clan Urdnot,” the young Krogan growled. “I’ll have some great battles to tell them about, and maybe I can get some more scars.”

            Shepard chuckled as she released his arm. “Take care of yourself, Grunt.”

            Only Tali and Garrus remained. Tali stepped toward her, wringing her hands as she did. “Oh Shepard, I -” the Quarian began. Shepard gave Tali a hug, which she returned tightly.

            “Thank you, Tali, for keeping me on track,” Shepard muttered as they released each other. “What are you going to do?”

            “I actually got a message from the Fleet not long ago,” Tali replied. “They’re calling everyone back.”

            “Why?”

            “I’m not entirely sure, but it doesn’t bode well,” Tali sighed. “Still, I wish I could go with you.”

            Shepard shook her head. “You need to return to your Fleet, Tali. They need you more than I do right now.”

            Tali nodded reluctantly. “I’ll try to keep in touch, Shepard.”

            Shepard smiled as her friend turned to leave. Joker approached from her right. “Commander, I’m going to talk to the technicians, just get some light repairs so we don’t have any trouble on our trip to Earth,” he informed her. She nodded her consent. “Then, I was wondering if I could take shore leave. I mean, if we’re about to get locked up, I’d like to have a bit of freedom first.”

            “Of course, Joker,” Shepard approved.

            “I’m leaving EDI in charge, so don’t destroy the ship while I’m gone, you two,” Joker teased them.

            “I will make sure they do not, Joker,” EDI chimed in.

            Garrus laughed behind Shepard. “We’ll do our best, but I can’t make any promises.”

            “La-la-la-la,” Joker said loudly, pretending to plug his ears with his fingers. “Geeze, Garrus, you can’t just spring things like that on me, I might break a rib from shock.”

            The three of them laughed. “What are you going to do on the Citadel?” Shepard asked.

            “Oh there’s a pretty realistic flight sim at the arcade in the wards, figured I’d go show some noobs how to really fly,” he started limping to the airlock. “It’s how I decompress from my rough job as the best pilot in the Alliance.”

            Shepard chuckled as he left, and now the two of them found themselves alone on the ship. She turned to Garrus. “So tell me, if you had only thirty-five hours of freedom left, what would you do?”


	15. Takeout

            Shepard was exhausted and drenched in sweat. Beside her, Garrus was trying to catch his breath, lying with his head propped by pillows so that his fringe didn’t damage the mattress. Shepard’s legs were shaking from the effort she had just expended and the intensity of the pleasure she had experienced only moments before. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as a smile spread across her face. They had spent the better part of the last hour wrestling for control, trying to toss the other on their back, teasing and playfully fighting over who got to be on top as they thrust against each other. She felt sure that Garrus had eventually let her win, because he had seemed overly eager to experience what she had seductively called “riding” him during their lengthy foreplay.

            They continued in exhausted silence, her hand finally reaching out to rest on his chest. He instinctively covered it with his own, his breathing still coming out in sub harmonic pants. “That’s definitely one way to spend an afternoon,” he muttered. She giggled and snuggled closer to him, feeling as though it took all of her effort to move the few inches to his side. “If we’re not careful, Fiona, we’re going to start running out of ideas. We still have,” he glanced at the bedside alarm clock, “a little over thirty-three hours to go.”

            Shepard cringed a little, reminded of their deadline. She stretched beside him, her catlike movements catching his attention as her breasts rubbed against his arm. “I don’t see us getting bored, to be honest,” she purred. She pushed herself into a sitting position and began to scoot down the bed, and she felt his arm try to snatch her back against him. Playfully she giggled and pulled away, swiftly hopping off the end of the bed. “But I think we need to refuel before our next round. I’m starving,” she said, and she walked to her footlocker to pull out shorts and a tank top. Garrus sighed and sat up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He stretched and picked up a pair of her pants, looking at them thoughtfully. They were some of her Alliance issued sweats and ran a bit big for her. He carefully slid his feet into them and pulled them up his legs. They stuck out awkwardly on the spurs he had on his calves, but fit him well over his protruding hip bones and long legs. He glanced up to find her smirking at him.

            “I only have my armor up here, I don't want to mortify Joker if he comes back,” he said defensively, but she shook her head.

            “They look good on you,” she told him, wiggling her eyebrows. “EDI, is there food on the ship?” she called out to the AI.

            “The inventory shows a modest supply of meal bars and paste for both levo and dextro diets,” EDI smoothly informed her. “The plan was to restock at the Citadel during shore leave.”

            Garrus furrowed his brows. “I think I need a bit more than nutrient paste to recuperate from the last few - well, the last day, really,” he said glumly.

            “If I may, Commander,” the AI continued. “You may be able to order food from a Citadel restaurant to be delivered to the ship.”

            Shepard gave Garrus a huge grin. “Saves us putting on real clothes to go find a restaurant.”

            “That sounds perfect. EDI, can you pull up menus on Shepard’s terminal?” Garrus inquired.

            “Certainly,” EDI replied. “I have found over fifty restaurants for you to choose from, all of which deliver and cater to both humans and Turians. When you have decided, I will place your order with the restaurant and track its delivery to inform you when it has arrived.”

            Shepard and Garrus moved to her terminal to look over their choices. “Ooo, pizza,” Shepard murmured, the idea of a huge pepperoni pizza making her mouth salivate. “Oh, they do Turian pizza too?”

            Garrus looked over the options. “Nah, this one looks like a bad imitation of the real thing,” he said, scrolling down to a fusion Asian restaurant. “Now, Turian spring rolls and dim sum are another thing. I used to eat here all the time when I worked at C-Sec - it’s fantastic.” He looked at the menu, his mandibles flexing in hungry anticipation as he read through it.

            Shepard found the human options and saw that they had sushi. “Mmmm, sushi might be even better than pizza right now,” she chewed absently on a finger as she contemplated. “Here?” Shepard asked, and Garrus nodded his agreement. They passed along their orders to EDI to place with the restaurant, and then wandered from Shepard’s cabin down to the observation deck.

            “We should still have some whiskeys,” Shepard commented as she began going through the bar’s stock.

            “I think we still have that bottle of champagne as well,” Garrus leaned on the counter, watching as she pulled out bottles to inspect. “We never did open it.”

            Shepard laughed as she found what she was looking for and stood to pour them each a glass. “True, we never did. Maybe we’ll save that for later.” She looked into his eyes and he nodded, understanding her meaning. Even though he had brought only a modest bottle of champagne to her cabin, it seemed sentimental to both of them, and was best savored together before their goodbyes.

            “Shepard, your order should be arriving in twenty minutes,” EDI informed them.

            “Thank you, EDI,” Shepard said, sipping her drink.

            “What should we do until then?” Garrus asked.

            “We could go mess up all of Joker’s settings in the cockpit,” Shepard suggested, causing Garrus to choke on his drink. He spluttered for a moment, laughing as he coughed.

            “Damn, Shepard, you have to warn me before you say something like that,” he wheezed. She reached across the bar and patted him on the shoulder apologetically. “Although that does sound fun…but nah, he’d know it was us. We’re the only ones here.”

            Shepard took another sip of her drink, contemplating. “What was the Turian military like? Outside of your skill in battle, I find it hard to picture you in the military, having to take orders and be a ‘yes man.’”

            He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I only did my required service time,” he told her. “I was good at a lot of it, but you’re right. I struggled too much with blindly following orders.”

            “And you thought that C-Sec would be better in that regard?” she questioned teasingly.

            “Well, that wasn’t exactly my intention. My father was C-Sec, if you’ll recall, and it was him pushing me to follow in his footsteps that made me apply,” he paused for a moment, staring into his glass. “I really wanted to be a Spectre. They tried recruiting me, but my father…dissuaded me from accepting.”

            “I think you would have been a good Spectre,” Shepard mused. “But you make a great vigilante bad boy. I think you’ve finally found your true calling.”

            His sub harmonics wheezed appreciatively as he chuckled. “What about you, Fiona? I never asked why you joined the Alliance.”

            Shepard stared into her glass for a moment, thinking. “I was raised on a colony, Mindoir. When I was sixteen, the colony was attacked by Batarian slavers.” Here she paused, and he reached a hand out to hers. “My parents were killed, and I was nearly captured by the slavers. But an Alliance ship showed up, and drove them off. They saved those of us that they could.”

            “I’m sorry, Fiona, I didn’t know,” Garrus murmured, squeezing her hand in sympathy.

            “It was thirteen years ago, it’s all right,” she replied, turning her hand in his so that she could hold it. “Anderson was on that ship, actually. When I had recovered from the attack, he asked me where they could take me, what family I had left.” She took a sip of her drink and returned her gaze to Garrus’. “I told him I didn’t have any, and that they didn’t need to drop me anywhere. I said I wanted to join the Alliance instead.”

            Garrus chuckled. “That sounds like you,” he agreed affectionately. “I thought humans couldn’t join the Alliance until they were eighteen? Did he make you wait?

            Shepard laughed and shook her head. “No, he helped me forge my paperwork and claim I was eighteen,” she confessed. “It wasn’t hard, my colony and family had just been completely destroyed, no hard copy records were left. Officially, the Alliance thinks I’m 31, but I’m only 29.”

            “Does that get confusing on your birthday?” he asked, still chuckling.

            “Only Anderson knows. He’s given me some funny cards over the years because of it,” Shepard replied. “But my age doesn’t come up much outside of paperwork. Filling out forms took some getting used to, but luckily they’re so repetitive I’ve gotten good at it.”

            “Shepard,” EDI interrupted. “Your food is arriving sooner than anticipated and will be here shortly at the airlock.”

            “Thanks, EDI,” they muttered and carried their drinks and the bottles of whiskey with them to the elevator.

            Their food was being delivered by a young human male, who couldn’t have been more than eighteen. He was looking around the CIC, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He hadn’t ventured more than one step past the airlock; he looked terrified to do so and was holding the many bags of food close to him, scared to touch anything. Shepard and Garrus came off the elevator, laughing together as they approached the airlock.

            “Hi there,” Shepard greeted the boy, and his eyes widened even further as he took in the pair before him.

            “You’re – you’re Commander Shepard!” he stammered, unable to contain his excitement. He took in her casual appearance and looked behind her at Garrus; he seemed shocked to see the half-naked Turian leaning so nonchalantly against the consoles of the CIC as he sipped his whiskey.

            “Ah, yes, I am,” Shepard replied, trying to hide her humor at the youth’s look of amazement. She waited a moment longer to see if he would calm down and start handling her transaction, and when he didn’t she cleared her throat and gently coaxed, “How much do we owe you?”

            The boy before her shook his head as if to clear it, setting some bags down so he could fumble on his omni-tool for the receipt. “Uh…it’s 157.60,” he said, holding out his arm so he could scan her credit chit.

            “Hang on, Fiona, I’ve got this,” Garrus stepped forward gallantly, putting his hand on her arm. He opened his omni-tool to his chit and swiped it, smiling at the look of bewilderment still plastered on the delivery boy’s face. Her companion took all of the overstuffed bags from the youth’s hands and the floor, holding them easily in one hand, his drink still held casually in the other. “Did we get chopsticks and levo-and dextro-soy?”

            The boy gave a short, jerky nod. “Y-yeah, they’re in there.”

            “Great,” Garrus drawled, and turned to head back to the elevator.

            “Thanks, kid,” Shepard said, and she turned to follow Garrus.

            “W-wait, Commander Shepard, please, can I -” the boy stuttered behind her. She turned back to face him, waiting. “Can I – can I have your autograph?”


	16. Impulse

            “You just made that poor sap’s day,” Garrus teased her as they rode the elevator back up to her cabin. “I still can’t believe you didn’t take a picture with him though.”

            “That’s exactly what we need showing up on the extranet right now. A picture of Commander Shepard, braless, drinking whiskey with her shirtless Turian lover aboard the Normandy,” she groaned. “Just before I head to Earth for a trial for supposed war crimes. The gossip vids would have a field day.”

            “All right, fair point,” Garrus conceded. They entered her cabin and he led the way to her sofa, setting the bags of food on the low table. They sat and began to unpack, to-go containers piling up on the table, and Shepard laughed at the amount of food they had ordered.

            “I think we could have fed the whole crew on this,” she joked.

            “No wonder that kid lingered, he probably thought we were throwing a party and wanted an invite,” Garrus chortled.

            The next hour was passed in gluttonous contentment as they ate their way through the heaps of sushi and dim sum they had ordered. They inspected each other’s different foods, trying to explain flavors and textures to each other. Suddenly Shepard remembered something, and swallowed her current bite so that she could ask him, “Garrus, why did you pay for the food? You made such a show of it.”

            He squirmed a little, embarrassed. “I saw in one of the human vids that men pay on the first date, I thought I was supposed to.” He looked at her, seeming more self-conscious as she threw her head back, laughing until tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes.

            Finally she calmed herself, sitting forward again and wiping her eyes. “So this is our first date?” she asked him.

            Sheepishly he looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry if I assumed -”

            She reached a hand over to his and squeezed it reassuringly. “I just had to ask because it’s been such a long time since I was on one,” she admitted to him.

            Garrus raised his gaze to hers and his face finally broke into a smile. “Should I have asked you first? Is that the custom?”

            Shepard shook her head in amusement. “I think we’re well past that considering how we’ve already been spending our time together.”

            He chuckled, but he got an evocative gleam in his eyes. “True, true, I think I saw that normally comes after the third date,” he agreed. “Seems a bit arbitrary, doesn’t it?”

            “It always has to me,” she said. She scooted closer to him. “I mean, since this is our first date, I don’t think I’m going to be able to send you home at the end of the night with just a kiss.” She looked up into his eyes, suggestively batting her eyelashes at him as she reached a hand out to his cheek. His mandibles fluttered as she stroked his scars, and his hands moved to her back and pulled her closer to him until she was in his lap.

            “You know, Fiona,” he murmured, “I think I’ve regained my strength now that we’ve eaten.” He pressed his forehead to hers and she closed her eyes.

            “Me too,” she breathed as she felt him lower his mouth to her throat. He nuzzled her with his mandibles, the light touch eliciting goose bumps as his hot breath touched her skin. He ran his tongue along her collarbone and she gasped, feeling warmed all over.

            “Garrus,” she whispered, running her hand below his fringe. Her mind was racing, and she found herself curious what else he had seen in human vids. She wanted to try something, but found herself unsure if the suggestion would shock him or if he’d been waiting for her to do it.

            “Yes, Fiona?” he breathed against her ear, his sharp teeth nibbling her earlobe.

            “Do you trust me?” she asked, turning her head to look down at him. He pulled back from her to stare into her eyes, confused.

            “You know I do,” he murmured, still frowning. She lifted herself out of his lap and knelt beside him on the sofa. She slid her hands down his bare chest, and brushed her fingertips against his waist. His mandibles quivered excitedly and he gave a slight moan. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the pair of sweats he wore, and slowly began to pull them down. He lifted his hips off of the sofa to help her, his eyes watching her closely, excited and curious.

            His lower plates had begun to open but hadn’t done so fully, and Shepard paused; she hadn’t expected that. After a moment’s deliberating, she ran her fingers up and down his waist again, and heard him suck in his breath in response. His plates shifted a bit more, but he still wasn’t out yet. She lowered herself, bending over him on the sofa and gently rubbed her lips against the half-open plates.

            “Shepard!” he cried out, jerking a little in response. She looked up at him, worried that she had somehow hurt or upset him. His eyes were closed, his head back, and he was panting. She smiled to herself; it was just a new sensation to him. She bent back over him and repeated the motion. He groaned, and she slid her tongue softly over the rough covering. One of his hands gripped the sofa, and the other worked its fingers into her hair; his breath was still coming in shallow gasps as he became more excited.

            The plates finally opened and his erection began to emerge. She coaxed it out, continuing her slow strokes of her tongue around his opening. After another moment, his erection was released completely, and she smiled a little to herself with pleasure. She glanced up at him before she began and saw him staring at her hungrily, his hand still resting gently on her head. Shepard lowered her mouth and pressed her closed lips to his tip, and he cried out softly. She opened her lips and slid the very tip of him into her mouth. He shuddered, her name on his lips and his hand tightening in her hair. In one slow, fluid motion she slid her mouth down his shaft as far as she could, her full lips stretched over him. He jerked in response, his knees shaking and his hand pushing lightly on her head. The self-lubrication that coated him was sweet, less salty than she expected; her lips tingled slightly as they rubbed against it. She began to slowly bob her head, taking him in and out of her mouth in measured movements, occasionally stopping to stroke his tip with her tongue. She stopped and held him in one hand, dragging her tongue from the base of him to the tip, and then swirled her tongue around him.

            He growled in response, his hand pushing more roughly on her head. He seemed to be losing control of himself, and she increased the speed at which she bobbed her head for a few moments, just sliding her lips up and down his length as much as she could. She stopped her bobbing and instead sucked hard at his tip. He growled louder and suddenly his hand released her hair and he said, “Stop, Fiona, please stop.”

            Shepard stopped, releasing the hand she had wrapped around him and sitting up, staring into his face in concern. “Garrus, are you okay?” she asked, her voice husky with alarm and arousal, her lips tingling and plumped from the contact with the fluid that covered him.

            “I’m better than fine,” he panted, his eyes closed once more and his head leaning back on the sofa. “But I’d rather fuck you than finish like this.”

            She giggled and stood up from where they sat. He looked at her and languidly reached a hand toward her to bring her back to him. She smiled and slipped out of her shorts and tank top, before straddling him on the sofa. “Now that, I can do,” she whispered and pressed her faintly puffy lips to his mouth. His talons gripped her back, clutching her to him. Garrus’ tongue reached out to meet hers, and for a moment they relished the kiss. Then his hands slid lower on her back, reaching her hips and trying to push her down on his erection. She adjusted her angle and directed her opening to his tip, and when she had found it she lowered her hips slightly so that his tip rested inside of her. He released her from the kiss and rested his forehead against her collarbone, still breathing sharply. His hands gripped her hip bones and slid her down his shaft, taking control of her movements as he had done previously.

            For a long moment they savored the feeling, and then he started lifting her hips in his hands, directing her pace as he pushed up with his hips to respond to the thrusts. Shepard placed her hands on the back of his head, running them over his neck and up under his fringe. He grunted and picked up the pace, his hands roughly clasping her hips as he moved her up and down on himself. The firm, commanding control he had over her made her moan, and she found herself shutting her eyes in pleasure as she let him direct her. He lowered his mouth to her breast and slid his tongue over her nipple, tasting and teasing her. She cried out, the contact shocking and sending warmth spreading throughout her body.

            Garrus suddenly slowed the pace and wrapped a strong arm around her. He stood easily, Shepard’s clinging form wrapped around him. He walked to the fish tank in the wall across from the sofa and pressed her back against the cold glass. She gasped at the sensation, and then moaned as he pinned one of her arms above her head. Still holding her securely with his other arm, he began thrusting into her roughly, the angle created by her position against the wall setting her nerves into overdrive. She moaned and began to whisper his name, her legs flexing as they helped hold her to him, knees draped over his hip spurs. He growled in her ear, responding fiercely with his hips every time she called out to him. It wasn’t long in this position until she felt herself pushed to the edge, and she cried out, “Yes, Garrus!” as she felt herself start to clench around him.

            He kept thrusting roughly, and in a moment of wild passion he growled and opened his mouth against the bend where her neck met her collarbone and bit down, his sharp teeth puncturing her skin. She sobbed at the contact, still jerking against him as she felt the last breathtaking convulsions of her orgasm. A moment later with his mouth still clamped to her he found his own release, and again his erratic, violent thrusts pounded her harder into the tank he held her against, lightly bruising her lower back.

            Garrus slowed his thrusts, his passion spent, and he slowly released where his teeth had bitten her. He pulled his head away, staring down at the spot he had ravaged with his teeth. Shepard was panting, smiling at him in her afterglow, but she immediately frowned when she saw the look on his face. “Garrus,” she murmured, “what’s wrong?” But he was still staring at the place where he had bitten her, and she wondered if he thought he had hurt her. “Garrus, it’s all right, it didn’t hurt. I liked it.”

            His arm slowly loosened around her waist and he pulled himself out of her before setting her down gently on the ground. “Shepard, I -” he began, but he faltered. He looked horrified.

            “Garrus, hey,” she stepped toward him and placed her hands on his chest. He wouldn’t look at her, and she lifted a hand to his mandibles to try to get him to face her. “It’s okay, really, like I said - I liked it.”

            But he shook his head and turned away from her. “It’s not that, Shepard. I -” he hesitated again. His voice was barely a whisper. “I just… _marked_ you.”

            She reached a hand up to where he had bitten her; it was moist with blood and saliva, but it barely stung. Her brow furrowed. Marked me? she wondered. “Garrus, I don’t understand.”

            He put his forehead in his hands and stood silently, his back still facing her. He seemed to collect his thoughts and finally turned around. “Turians, when we bond,” he sighed and gestured at her neck. “When we choose a mate, I mean.”

            Shepard absently rubbed the spot, thoughtful. He met her gaze and the look in his eyes was wounded, apologetic. He looked as if he thought he had ruined everything.

            “I’m so sorry, Fiona,” he whispered. “I got carried away.”

            “So, what, this was just spur of the moment for you?” she queried, her voice flat.

            “Yes – well, I mean, no,” he was wringing his hands as he watched her face for her reaction. “I couldn’t help myself; the feelings we’ve been stirring up, since before the Collector ship,” he hesitated and dropped his hands from their wringing. “No, fuck that, since before that. Since I’ve been back on this ship with you. Since you showed up on Omega, alive again and ready to whisk me off on another mission to hell and back with you.” His voice was gaining confidence. She watched him as his eyes began to sparkle with feeling.

            “What do you mean?” she softly prompted him.

            “Ever since I’ve been back on this ship, we’ve been spending so much time together, intimate time, talking about personal matters. You helped me with Sidonis, and I bolstered you when you doubted your ability to defeat the Collectors and the Reapers.” He took a few steps and closed the gap between them, his face full of intent. “I’ve shared parts of myself I never shared with anyone before. Ever since we met, when we started to become friends on the first Normandy. At first, I thought maybe only I felt that way, and then you asked me to spend the night with you. And that night, that first time I took you…Fiona, I’ve never felt that with anyone. I possessed you, but I felt possessed by you too. Before, sex was always just for fun, for stress relief and a quick orgasm. But this, what we have -” he paused, and then he raised his hands and gripped her upper arms tightly, pulling her against him. “This is real. And so yes, it was instinctual, and yes it was an impulse to do it, but I meant it. I’ve never wanted to do that to anyone before, even though it’s in my DNA to want to do it. But just now, I did. I meant to claim you as my mate. Because you are. And I’m yours. We belong together.”

            Shepard stared up into his face, absorbing the words he had said. He was breathing heavily, watching her for a reaction, and his eyes kept flitting to the spot where he had bitten her. His eyes no longer held a horrified look of shame, though. Instead his eyes were full of pride and victory, reveling gloriously in the sight of his mark upon her. His mandibles were fluttering quickly in the heat of his emotion as his thumbs stroked her arms where he held her. She felt the corners of her mouth tug up, a smile beginning on her face.

            Fiona Shepard had never thought she would feel this way, had never believed that she would feel like she belonged to or with anyone. And yet hearing him say the words, hearing him so blatantly declare his intentions and his feelings stirred something new within her. I feel the same, she realized, feeling in awe at how powerfully she knew that to be true. She was fairly certain she had felt that way for a long time, and just hadn't realized it. The smile finally spread across her face, and she gave a slight nod of her head. He returned her smile, moving his hands from her arms to her back as he pulled her into an embrace, his forehead pressed firmly against hers.

            “You’re right, Garrus,” she whispered. "We do."


	17. Ride or Die

            Time was her mortal enemy, she decided, lying there in the dark and staring at the alarm clock’s holographic glow. After the Reapers, I’ll find a way to conquer you, too, she thought vindictively. Her sour mood was due to the sudden awakening she had experienced; bolting into awareness, disoriented and thinking that they had overslept and missed their deadline. Looking at the clock she had seen that they still had three hours remaining, but upon seeing the few hours left her mood had only gotten worse.

            Their time together had gone by so quickly, spent shut up in her cabin making love and whispering as they held each other in their afterglow. She fondly remembered one of their trips to the mess hall for food and water, which they had torn through in ravenous silence before Garrus had thrown her on her back on the table. He had barely pushed their pants out of the way in his haste to enter her, and then he had thrust madly into her until they both came, hard and fast. As soon as they were done he had chuckled in relief. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he had admitted. She had joined his laughter, pleased they could both finally make these confessions. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to do that,” she had agreed. She felt like she had been living in a romance novel for the last day and half, but she weakly mused that if this was a romance novel, it was unlikely to have a happy ending.

            Behind her, Garrus lay on his side, his arm draped over her hip as he lightly snored, his sub harmonics emphasizing each of his deep breaths with a short purr. She watched him sleeping, enjoying his close presence in her bed. The idea of leaving him in a few hours made tears spring into her eyes, and she slowly sat up, carefully edging her way out from under his arm so that she didn’t wake him. She stretched as she found her footing and then walked quietly across the cabin to the bathroom. She closed the door before turning on the light, and then switched her shower on as hot as possible. The water scalded her skin and stung the many bits of skin that were raw from chafing. She hadn’t been very good about applying her ointment in the last few hours as they sought each other out again and again. She smiled at the stinging though, as it reminded her deeply that she was alive.

            The desire to cry was still just beneath the surface, and she mused over how emotional she had felt after being brought back from the dead. Before, she hadn’t been as attached to things or people, and she wondered if she had had to learn from experience how fleeting life was before she truly appreciated being alive. She had become more than a little reckless and careless after losing her family on Mindoir, not creating attachments or cultivating any sort of relationship or friendship. Surviving that and losing her family had created in her a deep fear of losing people, and so she had avoided caring about anyone in an attempt to protect herself. She had thrown herself into her work with the Alliance, with little to no regard for her own safety or mortality. Anderson was her longest friend, and she was fairly certain that was due to his efforts to watch over and keep in contact with her more than anything she did to maintain the relationship. Yet her mission against Saren, meeting her trusted crew, including Garrus, and then subsequently dying had changed everything for her. Now, she craved relationships, she craved intimacy. She knew now that life without love and connection wasn’t worth much. But love was worth everything, even her life. And if that was what it took against the Reapers…

            The bathroom door opened behind her and she turned, watching Garrus enter the small room and close the door behind him. He sleepily approached her, his hands gripping her waist tightly as he pulled her to him and stepped under the hot water to join her. She leaned against his chest and stood, enjoying the scalding wetness running down her back and the warmth of him standing against her front. The desire she had been fighting finally overwhelmed her, and she stood with her cheek against his chest plates, her hot tears mingling with the water of the shower. His fingers slowly stroked her back, holding her as she released her sorrow and frustration. He hadn’t said anything to her, but he didn’t need to. The feeling was mutually and deeply understood, and they stayed under the hot water for several long minutes before she broke the embrace, stepping back slightly, her tears spent.

            He was staring down at her warmly, and he lifted a hand to push her hair out of her face. He bent and pressed his forehead to hers, and then moved his mouth to hers and held it there firmly. His hands lowered to her rear and he picked her up without effort. She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed her against the wall, softly running his tongue against her jaw line. Shepard moaned as he searched for her opening again, and when he found it he slid himself into her with ease. He was cradling her gently in his arms, his movements tender and unhurried. In their time together, he had taken her roughly, made her beg, made her scream, thrust as deeply as he could in order to dominate her completely, but this time he lovingly held her, thrusting into her as though they had all the time in the world. He gently rocked himself against her, his hands supporting her thighs on either side of him as he kissed her, his tongue tasting hers leisurely. She had never felt more wholly that she belonged to someone else, had never felt so possessed by another being. Not even when he had conquered her and made her beg to be his until she sobbed with pleasure. His calming ministrations of love affected her to her core, and she began to softly cry out, his name on her lips as her whole being shuddered, her release coming upon her like an evening breeze, soft and exquisite. His talons gripped her thighs a little harder as he found his own release, and his teeth sought out the mark he had left at the base of her neck. He gave her another quick bite, and then rubbed his tongue over the raised spot as he thrust unevenly into her, still maintaining his tender performance, holding himself back from his usual primal response to his orgasms.

            Garrus held her there, pressed against the wall, still throbbing inside of her as he tried to quiet his breaths against her collarbone. Her hands were clinging to the back of his neck, her body occasionally trembling against his. Finally he removed himself and lowered her to the floor, making sure she was steady before he released her. He still hadn’t said anything to her, and he turned her to face away from him. He reached over to grab her soap and gently lathered her hair with it. He set the bar down and used his fingers to massage her scalp and work the soap through her hair. She groaned softly, feeling a release of tension she hadn’t known she had until his fingers worked on her head. After several long minutes he picked the soap back up and began to bathe the rest of her, gently dragging his soapy hands over the parts of her rubbed raw from chafing. He used his strong fingers to massage her shoulders for a time, and she found her eyes closed, head lolling in front of her, so content she could have easily fallen back asleep.

            But the realization that they were probably down to two hours kept her awake, and soon she stepped away from the loving fingers that made her feel pliable and unworried. She stepped back under the hot water and rinsed her hair and body. Garrus watched the soap run down her body in rivulets, and then picked the soap up and began to bathe himself. She watched his movements, trying desperately to capture each moment in her memory forever. He switched places with her so that he could rinse off, and when he was through he finally shut the water off. He picked her towel up and wrapped her in it, lightly buffing her skin with it to dry her off. Shepard was staring up into his face, her brow furrowed in awe at these intimate, loving actions. He saw her look and smiled gently at her.

            “I said that you were mine, Fiona,” he murmured in explanation as he continued rubbing her with her towel. “To Turians, that means a great deal. You’re mine; mine to protect, mine to nurture, mine to comfort.”

            Shepard blinked back tears again. “Oh, Garrus,” she whispered. He pushed his forehead to hers in a brief kiss, and then wrapped her towel around her shoulders. He picked up her spare towel and began to rub himself dry. She watched his actions, and then as he wrapped the towel around his lower waist she stepped forward, suddenly curious. The blue markings on his face were unaffected by the shower, and she lifted a hand to trace a finger along them. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her finger upon him, his mandibles flexing in response, his sub harmonics sighing.

            “Garrus, what are these?” she mumbled.

            “My colony markings,” he answered, his eyes still closed as her finger continued its tracing. She spent several more moments outlining the marks, trying to commit them to memory as well.

            “Are they a tattoo?” she asked. He nodded vaguely. “When did you get them?”

            “When I joined the military,” he replied. “Before that, they were done with a special paint. But every Turian gets them tattooed on their fifteenth birthday, before they go to boot camp.”

            She held his face in her hands, studying the tattoos. “Did they hurt?”

            He shrugged. “It was momentary. I’ve had worse.”

            She giggled. “Like a rocket to the face?” She teased, brushing her fingers against his scarred mandible.

            He opened his eyes and stared at her seriously. “Like thinking the person I cared about most in this life was dead.”

            She bit her lip, the laughter gone from her face. “How long have you known you cared about me?”

            “Since you died,” he replied, reaching up and taking her hands in his.

            “I think I always liked you,” she confessed. “I think it took me a while to see it because of the whole, ‘different species’ thing, and because I was so horrible at relationships. But I always wanted to talk to you on the Normandy while we hunted Saren. Always. It was my favorite part of the day.”

            “Mine too,” he answered, rubbing her fingers against his mouth.

            “Shepard,” EDI’s smooth voice interrupted. “Joker, Doctor Chakwas, and the rest of the skeleton crew are returning to the Normandy now. We will be departing in about two hours.”

            “Thank you, EDI,” Shepard whispered, her voice constricted by the tightening of her throat. She was still adjusting to actually being emotional. Garrus continued to hold her fingertips to his mouth for several moments more, and then released her hands.

            “I believe we have some champagne to open,” he informed her, and he led her out of the bathroom. He stripped out of the towel and threw it onto her desk chair. He picked up the pair of sweats he had been wearing and put them back on. She found her shorts and tank top beside the sofa and put them on to replace the towel she wore, which she used to rub the excess water out of her hair. She threw the towel on top of Garrus’ on her desk chair when she was done.

            Garrus picked the bottle of champagne up and began to work on opening it. With a satisfying pop, he got it open and poured some into two glasses waiting on the table beside the sofa. He filled each glass and then passed one to her. She took it from him, and they held their glasses up to each other in a silent toast, locking eyes above the champagne flutes. They each took a sip, still staring at each other. Shepard was trying to memorize the shade of blue of his eyes, so silver and icy, unlike any blue she had seen before. She lowered her glass and smiled at him, a sudden thought crossing her mind.

            “I promised you a picture, didn’t I?” she asked. He smiled in silent agreement with her statement. “Is your omni-tool on?”

            He lifted his arm and opened his camera. She gestured to him to sit on the sofa, and then sat in his lap, her tiny frame curled against him and her face near his, hand holding her champagne flute up near her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around his cowl and leaned her cheek against his. Garrus set the auto feature, and a small countdown appeared on the holographic screen. She nuzzled her cheek against his and smiled just as a bright flash blinded her. She blinked rapidly and Garrus pulled up the picture to look at. She beamed softly, looking at their happy faces in the picture. It was hard to tell that they were about to be separated, not knowing when or if they would see each other again.

            “One more,” Shepard suggested. Garrus set his omni-tool up again, and as the auto counted down she looked into his eyes, her gaze soft. She leaned down and kissed him lightly, and out of the corner of her half-closed eyes she saw the camera flash. They pulled apart, giggling slightly, and Garrus pulled the picture up so they could see it. Shepard’s soft lips were pressed against his mouth, their eyes closed and their heads tilted. It melted her heart to see their kiss caught on camera. “Send those to me,” she directed, nuzzling her forehead against his. He sipped his champagne before he pressed buttons on his omni-tool, attaching both of the pictures to send to her. She sipped her own champagne, still seated in his lap as the bubbles ran through her and lifted her spirits.

            “You know, I thought you meant a different kind of picture, but I suppose these are all right, too,” Garrus teased her.

            She scoffed in mock offense. “Do you really think I’m that kind of woman? I don’t need you showing it off to all your Turian buddies as a trophy.”

            He chuckled and rested his arm on her thigh, lightly stroking her skin with his thumb. “Oh trust me, I’m going to brag every chance I get. Not necessarily by name, but definitely in vivid detail,” he kidded her. She chuckled along with him, and then after several moments they fell into a comfortable silence.

             She leaned her head against his and took another sip from her champagne. “Garrus?” she questioned.

            “Hm?” he replied, lifting his glass to his mouth.

            “Do you know how tall you are? I mean, in human, Alliance terms?” she asked.

            He chuckled a little. “I found out at C-Sec, the humans always wanted to compare height,” he told her. “I’m almost exactly seven of your ‘feet’ tall,” He reached his large hand down to her feet and held one in his palm. “Although that sounds like such an odd measurement unit. I’m far more than seven of your feet - your feet are tiny.”

            She laughed, wiggling her toes in his hand. “It’s a bizarre measurement, I know.” She looked up and down his length. “Seven feet? Really? No wonder I feel like such a midget beside you.”

            “Why, how tall are you?” he asked, still cradling her foot in his hand.

            “I’m five foot eight,” she told him. She sat up and reached for the champagne bottle and topped them both up.

            He chuckled. “I don’t quite understand the measurement, but I can tell from how easily I can pick you up - you're much, much tinier than me," he mused.

            Shepard wrinkled her nose at him, and he laughed harder at her.

            “Fiona,” he began, suddenly more serious. “Can I ask you something?”

            “Mm-hmm,” she answered, resting her forehead against his once more.

            “What exactly was there between you and Kaidan?” he was still stroking her foot with his finger, and his voice sounded curious, not weighty or jealous.

            She sighed. “Do you really want to hear this?”

            “Please, I’d like to know,” he muttered. “It’s got to be better than what I’m imagining.”

            She thought for a moment, sipping her champagne to kill a few more seconds before she replied. “He flirted with me the entire mission. He started after Eden Prime,” she said. “And I don’t know, I guess…maybe I was flattered. He was attractive enough, and he really pursued me. I thought maybe I liked him as much as he liked me. But as I’ve said, I already found myself seeking you out and talking with you more than I wanted to speak with him. That feeling was confusing to me though; I’m so horrible with relationships and I couldn’t fully tell what was going on. I just knew I felt a kindred spirit in you, like you could understand me.”

            “So what happened?” Garrus encouraged her.

            “Well,” she sighed again, taking a small sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling her tongue as she put off answering. “The night before Ilos, he came to my cabin. He was concerned that we weren’t going to make it, he wanted to tell me how honored he was to serve under me, et cetera.” She paused and took another sip. “He took me in his arms and kissed me, and honestly, I thought there was a high chance that we were all going to die the next day. I figured why not spend what could potentially be my last night with someone who liked me?”

            Garrus nodded a little, thoughtfully taking a drink. “And after we survived?”

            “Things were hectic. Half of our crew got recalled, I mean the Alliance kicked all of the non-Alliance people off board, as you’ll remember. They only let Liara stay because she was an expert on the Protheans. And I was so focused on trying to get the Council to believe me about the Reapers being the real threat that I didn’t seek him out, even to set the record straight.”

            “About what?”

            “I had only intended for it to be one night,” Shepard confessed. “I liked him, sure. But I wasn’t into relationships, and I didn’t want that with him. Meanwhile I was still finding time to send messages to you when I could, and I still wasn’t sure what that meant to me. But everything went so quickly, that whole month is a blur. And then, well - I died.”

            He was thoughtful for a moment as he held her, his large thumb still stroking her tiny foot. “So it was just that? He didn’t seek you out in your cabin again?”

            Shepard shook her head as it rested against his. “No, he never did. I wondered for a bit if he had realized it was inappropriate since I was his senior officer, or if he could tell I was distant. He still talked to me occasionally, still flirted. But he backed off, and I guess maybe I thought he’d gotten the hint. I never thought to cement that idea for him.”

            Garrus took a deep drink from his glass, and he tightened his hand where it rested on her feet. She felt so comfortable like this, curled safely in his lap, his strong arms around her. “So, Horizon…” he began.

            She groaned. “That was…horribly awkward,” she admitted. She sipped from her glass, and he reached down to pick up the champagne bottle. He finished the bottle topping them off, and when he was done she spoke again. “He sent me an email after that made me realize you were right. He was more upset that it seemed like I hadn’t contacted him for two years or as soon as I was back than he was about my working with Cerberus.”

            Garrus chuckled. “I never expected to be right about a human relationship,” he mused.

            “You were. And that was sweet, you trying to help me. But I really was more upset thinking about all the people I had trusted turning their backs on me like he did.”

            He squeezed her tightly. “Well, for what it’s worth, you know I’ll always have your back.” He pulled his head back from hers so that he could look her in the eye. “I heard a human saying in an old vid once, and I looked it up: ‘ride or die.’ It feels fitting.”

            Shepard laughed. “Oh man, that is an old saying. But…I think you’re right, I think it fits us pretty well.”


	18. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

            Ten minutes left. Shepard was watching Garrus put his armor back on, watching as his fingers deftly fastened the latches. She was wearing her casual uniform, so that if they ran into anyone when they went downstairs she wouldn’t scandalize them. She turned to the glass display case to catch her reflection and smoothed her hair, trying to look presentable. He finished putting his armor on and reached a hand out to her. She took it and silently followed him out of the cabin. They made a trip down to the battery where the rest of his belongings, including his rifle, were stored. He checked to make sure he had everything, and then they silently returned to the elevator to take it back up to the CIC.

            The ship was hushed, seeing as there were only three or four total crewmembers present. The CIC was deserted when they reached it, but Shepard found herself happy about this fact. She didn’t want their last goodbye ruined by trying to hide their true feelings or being interrupted by anyone else. They walked hand in hand to the airlock, and Garrus turned to face her in front of its doors. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, unable to find the right words.

            “Have you decided where you’ll go?” Shepard asked him finally.

            “I think I’m going to head back to Palaven,” he answered. “Maybe I can get the Hierarchy to listen to me, if I tell them what we’ve seen.”

            Shepard gave a weak smile. “Good, the Turians need to be prepared.” She trailed off and fell silent again.

            “Have Joker send word if you need a prison break,” he told her, squeezing the hand he still held. She nodded jerkily. Her emotions were beginning to take over, and she found herself incapable of speaking. “Fiona…”

            She raised her teary eyes to his gaze. He placed a hand under her chin and lowered his forehead to hers, then moved his mouth to press against her lips. This dual kiss was becoming their habit, and she found herself blissfully responding to it every time. She briefly pushed her lips against his with more pressure, felt his soft response, and then they pulled away from each other.

            Shepard stared into his clear eyes, and felt herself panicking as she contemplated what to say, worried this would be the last time. “I’ll see you around,” she whispered. “We have to take down the Reapers together - ride or die, right?”

            Garrus smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t miss the chance,” he agreed. He pressed his mouth to hers again, and then took a few steps back, his hand still holding hers. “Good luck,” he said. He squeezed her fingers and then released her hand as the airlock doors opened to let him exit. She smiled, watching him walk backwards away from her. He held up his hand in one last gesture, and then the doors shut, blocking him from view. She stood for a long moment, unmoving, staring at the place where he had been.

            “Commander,” Joker’s voice called from the cockpit. “It’s time, we need to leave.”

            She tried to reply but couldn’t; her throat was constricted with emotion.

            “Joker, you are free to depart,” the voice of EDI rang out. “Mr. Vakarian has left the premises; everyone left onboard intends to reach Earth.”

            Shepard felt the ship detach from the docking bay and begin to turn so that it could depart the Citadel. She rushed into the cockpit and looked through the window, searching the port. Garrus stood in front of where the Normandy had been docked, watching the departure. The sight crushed Shepard, and she sank into the co-pilot’s seat beside Joker. The Normandy finished maneuvering from the dock and slowly made its way into a departure lane. She could no longer see Garrus out the window, but she still stared out of it as though she could.

            “Making the jump to FTL,” Joker muttered. He pressed the button sequence, and the Normandy lurched, jumping toward the Citadel’s Relay, which hooked them and shot them in the direction they needed.

            Shepard pulled her legs into her chest as she reclined in the chair. She thought about going up to her cabin, but knew that it would just smell like him and remind her of the last few days. Instead she wrapped her arms around her legs and sat staring out the ship’s windows, watching the blur of distant stars as they moved past them at FTL.

            Joker gave her a sideways glance, but this time his look wasn’t teasing. Finally he said, “Are you all right, Commander?”

            She nodded, and then sighed. “I’ve given so much of my life to the Alliance, I’m scared to find out who I’ll be without it,” she confessed.

            The pilot stared at her for a long moment, as if he hadn’t expected such a serious answer. “Ah, don’t worry, Commander,” he assured her, trying to make his tone light and carefree. “Everything is going to work out. You saved the galaxy at least twice, now. That has to count for something.”

            She gave a small smile and sat staring out the windows. They continued in silence until finally, the lull of the ship had a relaxing effect on her and she felt her eyelids heavy with sleep. She and Garrus had slept briefly, but her body was still exhausted from the events of the last several days. The hum of the ship as it traveled through space toward Earth helped her drift off, and she finally fell into a deep, exhausted sleep right there in the cockpit, Joker keeping watch over her.


	19. Surrender

            Shepard jerked awake sharply, and took a moment to gather herself as she looked around the cockpit. Joker looked over from the controls and saw that she was awake. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he teased lightly, but he was looking at her with concern.

            “How far are we from Earth?” she muttered, stretching as she sat up straight in the co-pilot’s chair. Her neck ached from the position she had been sleeping, and she rubbed it with her hand to ease its tension.

            “About an hour,” Joker replied. “I was just about to wake you, actually. Figured you’d want to be better prepared for our arrival instead of groggy from napping in a pilot’s seat.”

            One hour left, she mused numbly. “Thanks, Joker,” she sighed and stood. With one final stretch she left the cockpit and made her way to the elevator. The ride up to her cabin reminded her how alone she was; the past few days each trip in the lift had been accompanied by fevered kisses and caresses. She mentally shook herself as she entered her cabin, but the effort to distract herself went poorly as she took in the casual destruction of her quarters.

            The to-go containers were still piled on the table in front of the sofa where they had picked over them together. The bottles of whiskey were nearby beside half-empty glasses, their drinking interrupted by desire and left unfinished. The empty champagne and flutes were on the table beside the sofa, one of the flutes knocked over, its remaining contents spilled onto the floor. She smiled as she realized her foot must have hit it when he had hastily pushed her back onto the sofa, determined to make love one last time before he had to leave her. Clothes were scattered over the floor, including the pair of her sweats that he had worn, now stretched out in odd places from his spurs. These she picked up gently and held against her, thinking about how endearingly outlandish he had looked wearing her clothes.

            The bed sheets were strewn about, draping onto the floor at the foot of the bed, the duvet thrown to the side and pushed sloppily against the wall. The pillows were haphazardly heaped in different piles. Some he had used to place under his head to protect his fringe as he slept; others he had stacked under her hips to give her leverage against his lustful thrusts. But she noticed something small resting on the pillow she had slept on, which lay beside the other piles. She set the pair of sweats she still cradled down so she could see what it was. The item turned out to be her dog tags, the long neck chain laying stretched out on the pillow as though placed intentionally. She picked it up and held the tags in her hand, frowning as she turned them over between her fingers. She began to smile, her eyes filling with tears again.

            Garrus had fixed one of his old C-Sec dog tags to her necklace, and it appeared he had also taken one of hers to keep with him. Her smile turned into a wide grin as she slid the chain over her neck. It was ingenious; she could always wear her dog tags, and no one in the Alliance would think to check hers closely to determine if she wore only her own. She felt the cool metal of the tags against her breasts, and their light weight felt comforting and reassuring to her, bolstering her spirits for what was to come.

 

* * *

 

            Fiona had showered and dried her hair with the utmost care, trying to look presentable. The dog tags rested comfortably against her chest under her formal uniform, which she had gotten out of her footlocker, intending to look as professional and respectable as she could when she turned herself over. She gently straightened her metals and rank, hesitantly wondering if she should remove them. The notion was quickly shot down by her fierce determination. She wouldn’t admit defeat just yet, not when there was a chance she would be rightfully cleared of the charges. Carefully checking over her appearance once more in the mirror, she took steadying breaths to calm her nerves. Her hand shook slightly as she pushed her hair behind her ear, and she lowered her fingers to where the dog tags lay beneath her uniform, trying to compose herself. The hidden presence of Garrus’ tag made her feel better, and she turned to leave. She paused and turned back once more to the mirror, checking to see if her collar covered the mark he had left on her neck with his teeth. Satisfied that it was hidden as well, she took another deep breath and left her cabin.

            Shepard calmly made her way to the cockpit, taking her place beside Joker’s chair. He glanced up and took in her formal attire, and swallowed hard in a show of his own nerves. “Just got permission to land, Commander.”

            She nodded her assent and he maneuvered the Normandy into the atmosphere. Shepard watched him direct the ship into a docking bay, and then he released the controls with a deep sigh. She gently patted him on the shoulder, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Then she turned and headed to the airlock, nervously adjusting the bottom of her blouse. Dr. Chakwas was waiting for her beside the door, and Joker followed Shepard out of the cockpit.

            “Commander Shepard, it has been an honor,” Chakwas declared, holding out a hand. Joker held his out as well.

            “Yeah, thanks, Commander,” Joker agreed.

            Shepard nodded to both of them and then faced the airlock with one last calming breath. She stepped through the airlock’s double doors and out onto the catwalk that had risen to meet the ship’s entrance, the other two following in her wake. Admiral Anderson was standing waiting for her, several Alliance soldiers standing behind him. She stepped before him and halted, giving a quick salute, which he briefly returned.

            “Admiral Anderson,” she said. “I didn’t think you would be here to greet me.”

            “Admiral Hackett informed me of the ultimatum he had given you,” he replied, staring at her sternly. “Coming in close to the wire, aren’t you?”

            Shepard put her hands behind her back, her stance firm, her chin raised slightly. “I had some matters to attend to before I turned myself in.”

            He frowned. “Like releasing all of your crew on the Citadel?”

            Shepard greeted this statement with silence, her hands still clasped firmly behind her back.

            “Commander Shepard,” he paused, as though this pained him. “You have been made aware of the charges brought against you?”

            “Yes, sir,” she replied steadily. She was still focusing on the feeling of the dog tags pressing lightly into the skin between her breasts.

            “Then, Commander, as Admiral of the Alliance it is my duty to place you under arrest for crimes against humanity, and the galaxy,” he stated flatly. One of the soldiers behind him stepped forward with a pair of mass effect handcuffs, and Shepard eyed them before she turned a quizzical frown to Anderson.

            “Are the cuffs really necessary?” she queried. “I’m willingly turning myself in – I have no intention to run, Admiral.”

            He waved the soldier down before he faced her again. “You’re right, Shepard. But you’ve become unpredictable, I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

            “I’m still myself, sir,” she said. “I only intend to fight the charges through trial, not combat.”

            Anderson nodded and gestured for Shepard and her crew to follow him.

            “Aw man, I wanted the handcuffs,” Joker whispered behind her, causing Dr. Chakwas to suppress a laugh and Shepard to smirk.


	20. Patience

            “Relieved from duty?” Shepard repeated incredulously, trying to grasp the full meaning of the verdict.

            “Effective immediately,” Anderson replied. “And, well…not exactly house arrest, but the Alliance Council has determined that you are to remain here on Earth for the present time, under the watchful eye of the Alliance.”

            Shepard sank into the chair behind her, trying to absorb his words. The trial had been incredibly short considering the magnitude of the charges, and it had felt like a sham. As it had progressed she began to expect a quick verdict to come, and had expected to be court-martialed after the joke of a trial. Anything she had tried to use as a defense had been essentially thrown out. Her excuses that she had been beyond the Omega-4 Relay working with Cerberus and couldn’t have been in the Bahak System only worked against her; and the questionable evidence they had in opposition to hers bore all the hallmarks of a framing by that very organization. The Illusive Man doesn’t take rejection lightly, she had mused bitterly.

            But now she found herself let off with what felt like a slap on the wrist, and yet she still wasn’t entirely free. “Admiral, sir, I’m not quite sure I understand – I thought I was going to be court-martialed.”

            “And you damn near were, Shepard, so consider yourself lucky,” he snapped. She frowned at him; the outburst he directed at her sounded like a scolding. He sighed and rubbed his hand against his forehead. “You’re to stay within this base, leaving only with proper approval and supervision, until the Alliance deems otherwise. The trial’s over; you may return to your quarters.”

            Shepard stood, still feeling in shock at her situation. She turned away from him, fighting the urge to salute before she left. No longer in the Alliance, she reminded herself. As she departed he called for her to wait and took a few steps toward her, fishing in his pocket for something.

            “Here, before you go,” he muttered and thrust a brightly colored birthday card in her hands. It had a cartoon puppy on it and wished her a happy 14th birthday in big blue letters. Her lips trembled as she started to smile; she’d completely forgotten it was her birthday. She looked up to find him staring at the floor uneasily. She reached a hand out and squeezed his arm.

            “Thanks, Anderson,” she said finally, dropping her hand and turning to head back to her quarters.

            Joker limped quickly toward her down the hall, his eyes questioning. “Commander, I just heard that the verdict came in, I didn’t expect it that quickly -” he huffed as he fell into step with her.

            “It’s no longer ‘Commander,’” she murmured, still staring at the card Anderson had given her.

            “What?” Joker blanched, horror on his face. “They didn’t court-martial you - did they?”

            “Relieved from duty,” she said cynically, finally looking up from the card. “And placed under house arrest, basically.”

            “But you didn’t do it!” he protested indignantly.

            “Cerberus did a really good job making it look like I did,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. She was beginning to feel exhausted, like she could sleep for a week straight. “What about you?”

            “Oh, Doctor Chakwas and I had gone through all of the proper channels to take leaves from the Alliance. I mean, they’d grounded and essentially released me after the Normandy-1 went down. So no charges,” he answered blandly.

            She nodded, content at least that she was the only one being punished, as had been her intention. “Joker, can you do something for me? They’re going to be watching my comms pretty intently for the foreseeable future…”

            “Yeah, of course,” Joker nodded enthusiastically.

            “Let our friend Archangel know – he doesn’t need to organize a jailbreak, I’ve been relieved from duty,” she requested.

            “Will do Com – I mean, Shepard,” he corrected himself. She flinched a bit at the slip; it was going to take a lot of getting used to.

 

            Over the next week, she saw Joker and Doctor Chakwas a few times, as each came to visit her to help pass the time and discuss the verdict with her. She asked Joker if there had been a reply to her message, and he laughed, shaking his head in bemusement. “Yeah, he just told me to pass on this: ‘Remember, ride or die – let me know when.’”

            Shepard gave a one-sided smirk. “Any word about what’s going on out there? Any news about the Reapers?”

            Joker shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t heard anything – either they’re not here yet or they haven’t made their presence known.”

            Shepard nodded her head, deep in thought. She wondered blandly if she would even be able to do anything when they did arrive.

 

* * *

 

            The first week turned quickly into the first month. Shepard caught up on her sleep, finding her exhaustion from death and her missions with Cerberus finally overwhelming her, and she tried to keep a close eye on the news.

            One month grew into three, and in the meantime she took up yoga and read the books she’d put off finishing for years while she ran around saving the galaxy.

            By the fourth month, she had found a sparring partner to try to keep herself sharp and explored her old interest in jazz from the early to mid-twentieth century, finding a plethora of recordings in archives on the extranet. She made a habit of writing letters on her omni-tool every day, but never tried to send any of them, instead saving the files to her encrypted drive. She hadn’t received any communications from anyone, whether because they knew better than to try to reach out or because the Alliance was preventing anything from reaching her.

            Each night before she fell asleep, she opened her omni-tool and stared at the photos saved to her personal drive, fondly remembering, anticipating a reunion she wasn’t sure would ever come.

            Joker still visited her when he could, and he passed on what little he had heard from any of the rest of the team. He told her how their mutual friend checked in once a week, still offering to make the trip to Earth to ‘visit’ like he’d promised he would. She resisted taking the offer, and fought the urge to have Joker pass on any of the messages she had been writing, just in case the Alliance was watching his communications as well. But also because she wasn't sure she could trust Joker not to read them.

            Instead she wore her dog tags every day, even to bed, and frequently found herself holding and caressing them between her fingers as she read or listened to the news. The bite mark on her neck had faded so that it was hardly noticeable, but she found her eyes drawn to it every time she passed a mirror, her fingers grazing the small raised scars his teeth had left as she reminisced. She reveled in the secret knowledge of what it meant, of the promise she intended to keep.

             She grew her hair out, no longer bound by a uniform code or the need to keep it out of her face for battle. Her hair hadn’t been longer than her shoulders since before she was sixteen, and she enjoyed the odd sense of femininity that it created in her to brush and braid her hair before she did yoga, or put it into a topknot before she practiced sparring.

             She wondered mildly if she would ever get to show it to him...

             To feel his fingers run through it as his mandibles flexed in excitement, enjoying the silky strands as they ran over his palms or draped around his face as she leaned down to kiss him…

            In the sixth month, she began to pick up odd bits of news here and there that began to worry her. She noticed a buzzing sense of urgency in the Alliance members as they rushed throughout the base, but still she found herself confined to house arrest.

            And so she began to increase the amount of yoga and sparring she did to release her pent up frustration and to ready herself for the coming fight. The urge to tell Joker to ask Archangel to break her out became stronger; she felt the battle coming and sitting on the sidelines was not how she intended to spend it.

            She had to be ready. Ride or Die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started posting this, I didn't realize it would still be so popular! I thought I'd missed the 'No Shepard Without Vakarian' train and that everyone would be like, meh old news. I wrote this a few months ago just for fun, not intending to post it. Your response has been unexpected and definitely heartwarming.  
> I'm so happy if you've enjoyed this! I know this is an angsty place to leave it, but I think this works best in two parts, as a series.  
> There is a written start to the events of ME3 and their eventual reunion, but it got bogged down in canon. I'm currently working on figuring out where to pick up with it, so that you don't have to suffer through too much canon. I think it may just pick up with the journey to Menae, so that you get their reunion right away. I think by now we all know how Shepard gets there, and as satisfying as it would be to have her yell at Kaidan on Mars, it's unnecessarily repetitive.  
> In the meantime, thank you for reading and hopefully enjoying it! Your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Look for the next part here in a day or two, I'm currently working on editing it as well as my other works. It's not a complete piece, either, and will probably be much longer than this, with plenty of smut, angst, and a very, very fluffy ending. Because the ending of ME3 is definitely not, and these two deserve the happiest of happy endings.  
> Again, thank you for reading! <3
> 
> xx,  
> L


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